


Half a Man

by HLP343



Category: Highschool DxD (Anime), やはり俺の青春ラブコメはまちがっている。 | My Teen Romantic Comedy SNAFU (Anime)
Genre: F/M, He died and got better, Sesquipedalian Narration, Warnings do not yet apply, tags will update with story
Language: English
Status: In-Progress
Published: 2020-06-03
Updated: 2021-02-12
Packaged: 2021-03-04 06:34:43
Rating: Mature
Warnings: Graphic Depictions Of Violence, Major Character Death
Chapters: 4
Words: 30,963
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/24529216
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/HLP343/pseuds/HLP343
Summary: Hikigaya Hachiman just wanted to live a normal life. A life where he knew where he was going, expectations for him were set in stone and a fundamental degree of sense applied.Awakening to a cold Winter morning with memories of being stabbed to death by his girlfriend on Christmas, suddenly the world was much larger than he imagined.He was happy in his ignorance.
Relationships: Hikigaya Hachiman & Himejima Akeno, Hikigaya Hachiman & Rias Gremory, Hikigaya Hachiman & Rias Gremory's Peerage
Comments: 8
Kudos: 39





	1. Chapter 1

“Life sucks, and then you die.” – Albert Einstein.

Not.

I’m not sure who the genius was that first came up with that phrase, but they were placed squarely near the top of my ‘People I’d like to kill’ list. That phrase is a glorification and standardisation of the shitty wage slave life that society imposes upon us. You should have said ‘Work sucks, go home and be a househusband!’ random dumbass on the internet. Then I wouldn’t want to kill you!

Also, the original phrase is a damn lie!

Life doesn’t suck for you, you asshole. I’m sure you have plenty of friends, family and maybe even a lover that cares for you. I’m sure you have a group of workmates that you meet with every couple of days after work and go and drink and socialise with you goddamn normie! And while you’re there I’m sure you bitch and moan about how your manager would be much cuter if she just smiled more, and how Tanaka-kun is getting pretty fat after his wife left him.

Sucks to be you, Tanaka-kun, but you probably shouldn’t have been visiting the same love hotel every weekend. I’m sorry, Tanaka-kun, but being so predictable in your cheating means you weren’t exactly trying your best in your marriage. Also, why were you cheating in the first place!? Go die, asshole! Leave some women for the rest of us losers!

Anyway, where was I?

Oh right, most people’s lives were pretty great. Or as much as they could be when they’d bowed to the system and submitted to the loss of life that was working. Unlike mine. My life sucked pretty massively, to be honest. I had no friends, girls were repulsed by me, and my family cared more about my little sister than they did me.

Ah! Komachi! Komachi would probably be pretty sad if I die… but then, I guess that’s where my life was heading at this point. And I’m sure she’ll get over it in no time. Just remember, my dear little sister! In the event of my death you get Vita-chan only if you destroy my laptop without looking at anything in it.

It says so right in the document titled ‘IN CASE OF DEATH – KOMACHI!’ on the desktop. Please don’t click the folder next to it. It says right there ‘DO NOT LOOK!’ you know!

So yeah, I think the phrase would have been best worded as ‘Hikigaya Hachiman’s life sucked. And then he died.’

Or, ‘got killed’ I guess.

Admittedly, like any true scholar of the great linguistic arts, I had had dreams of dying in a tragic accident and being whisked off to a fantasy land full of cute girls and magic.

While there, I would have the benefit of a not unattractive face, good hygiene, and modern education to place me in the top 1% of men. That, plus a non-existent drinking age, would mean I could spend every day drinking and partying with cute girls when I wasn’t out killing the Demon Lord’s minions with my cheat magic powers gifted to me by a wonderful Goddess.

Unlike a certain someone, I’m sure my Goddess will be a beauty with brains and an unpadded chest who will make my every dream come true instead of dragging my useless self out for adventures!

But alas, instead of my fateful meeting with Truck-kun and a life of decadence and debauchery I got stabbed by a psychotic stalker slut with wings and left bleeding out on the ground like an idiot.

…for some reason, the ground in the middle of Winter is surprisingly warm and comfortable.

Wait, I’m in my bed. Why am I there? I really was on the ground right? My body was bleeding the iced over grass in that park red, right? I was seriously dying, right?

Apparently I wasn’t. I was home in my bed and when I went to school no-one remembered a single thing about the psycho that had asked me out every afternoon from the day we changed our Summer uniforms until I’d finally agreed.

Huh, what’s that? You mean I should’ve expected her to do something crazy? Well I did, which is why I told as many people as I could about the super-hot girl I was dating and handed out her picture to everyone who cared.

Which was no one.

But I also told Komachi, so it’s really weird that not even she remembered that slut! Seriously, while I’m sure my mother and father wouldn’t remember such shocking news as their son having a girlfriend, I’m certain my sister would remember her beloved big brother being taken away from her!

But she didn’t.

So I guess maybe the phrase should instead be ‘Hikigaya Hachiman’s life sucked. And then he went crazy.’

**[-]**

I’d been sent home before lunch for “much needed rest and recuperation.” I thought the school nurse might have been full of it, but as I blearily opened my eyes, I saw the clock had more than completed a full revolution in the time I’d slept. I’d fallen asleep around 1pm yesterday – the school had ordered me a taxi home. Given that I had no lights on but could see just fine, it was fair to assume it couldn’t be anywhere near 7pm. I’d been comatose for the past eighteen hours.

Huh.

Also, my head hurt like hell, and my throat was begging for water.

Apparently going crazy gives you a hangover. I’ll be sure to drink plenty of water next time my mental faculties take a vacation. Attempting to rise from my bed, some accursed sunlight slipped through the gap in my curtains and invited another wave of agony and lethargy to wash over me.

All there was covering me was a light sheet, and yet it took the full extent of my strength to lift it off of my exhausted body. I needed food. And coffee. Pronto.

Luckily, it seemed Komachi had been kind enough to leave a couple of slices of bread after making her own breakfast, so I was able to make some toast before washing it down with a nice, cold, refreshing can of MAX Coffee. Normally, I would have tried to make something a bit more elaborate, but right now every move I made was making my body hurt and my head pound. And I still had to ride my bike for the hour’s journey from Chiba to Kuoh.

As I should have expected, entering the school the morning after my apparent psychotic break I found myself the focus of the school’s gossip mill. This isn’t exactly new, of course; I’d been on the receiving end of plenty of nasty rumours since elementary. It _was_ the first time it had happened in high school though.

A year of being a loner and now my name was in every pretty girl’s mouth. My luck was about to change!

“Hey, Hiki… uhh, Hiki… Hiki… Hikitani-kun! Is it true your girlfriend dumped your gross ass on Christmas?”

“C’mon, no way that creep had a real girlfriend. His whole story is hella pathetic.”

Not.

Ignoring the snickering hyenas that lurked inside the shell of school girls was one of my 108 Special Skills. I’d been forced to learn it in middle school, and since then it’s had a 100% chance of being super effective against Normal types.

Use it together with my favourite pair of skills – Stealth Hiki (the ability to go completely undetected by the people that didn’t really care about you) and Feigning Sleep for bonus Synergy Points! Throw in my Ultimate Skill: Blabbering To Myself and I can keep myself entertained and not have to listen to the garbage spreading garbage about all the other garbage just so that the highest tier of garbage controlling the school can get their rocks off.

Unfortunately, as the most recent piece of garbage, it was my foresworn duty to uncover the names of the bastards talking trash about me so I can add them to my Death Note. Make no mistake you smiling snakes hiding behind the façade of youthful indiscretion, you are all criminals, guilty of wounding the newly appointed god of this world. There will be no heart attacks or strokes, only painful and humiliating deaths as I make you shit yourselves into the next life for talking about me behind my back.

Or maybe I’ll make you spill every thought you have about your groupies until they get angry enough to sell you out to the Romans for 13 yen.

My arrival to the Class 1-F classroom passed by unremarkably, with no one inside any the wiser that it had happened. Just like every other day.

The average Japanese high school classroom came equipped with five rows of six desks ranging evenly across the room such that the first desk was next to the door so that the class president can kiss the teacher’s ass as they walk in, and the protagonist can sit in the back row and look out the window whenever the hell they wanted.

For the record, my desk was in the third row, next to the wall. A blessing today to be sure, since it meant I wouldn’t have the sun beating this headache any worse into my head. That also meant I had to limp past at least a couple people to slink into my desk; during which I was much too visible to the whole room. Wait, that’s strange, isn’t it? Doesn’t that mean that people should totally know I’m here? But, no one is talking or gossiping any more than they were before I walked in.

That’s really weird, you know? I just had a major freakout yesterday, you know? You could at least pretend to give a crap about your classmate, you know! Ahhh, I guess that was truly a testament to the power of Stealth Hiki – even when I’m the hottest piece of gossip, no one sees me.

I’m sure it wasn’t just a case of no one actually knowing what my name is. That’s just cruel, you guys. We’ve been together for eight months now – that’s plenty of time to learn the names of all your new classmates.

In front of me, a couple of otaku were auto-piloting through some MonHun quests on their Switches while they passionately discussed the anime they had eagerly stayed up ‘til 2am to watch. Hey, that’s actually a really nice conversation. I wanna join in too… uhh... what were your names again? Was it Oda-kun? Tahara-kun?

Ah well, even though I liked those things, I probably wouldn’t be welcomed into their conversation. Guys like me who half-ass hobbies like that tend to get looked down on by hardcore fans. Those used to be the hobbies of us loners, but now you just can’t succeed without being able to brag about how much more cultured you are because you found some shitty niche thing that no one else has ever heard or cares about. And if you can’t manage that then you definitely need to be able to talk about the literal days you’ve wasted consuming your obsession of choice.

No one cares that you’ve watched all of One Piece five times. Everyone knows the anime is a dumpster fire and you should just read it in JUMP, dumbass.

Ignoring the otaku who had begun to talk about which 2D character this season had the best chest, I looked around the room looking for who had the best 3D che– I mean, any other conversations that might be involving me. I’d come to school early today solely to do so, after all. My being in class before the warning bell was all but a sign of the apocalypse. It’d be tragic if I brought Satan closer to walking on Earth for nothing.

That being said, I already knew that there was only one group that would be vapid and inane enough to be talking about such a stupid thing like me before class.

“Hey, hey, Hayato! Did you hear about that Hikio dude? Freaky, right?!”

The Normie Court. The Normiest Normies to ever Normie. They were the who’s who of the class, and by extension the school, despite only being first years. There were only a select few who stood higher on the social ladder than those guys, and they were all weirdoes who didn’t really interact with anyone below them. Or so I’d heard through the grapevine, at least.

“Hikio? Ah, that’s a bit rude, Tobe. That’s not his name at all.”

Although I said that the group was a collection of the who’s who, it was really just two. The handsome breakout star of the Soccer Club, and king of the Normies, Hayama Hayato, and his number one fangirl, the self-fashioned Fire Queen of Kuoh.

“Eh, its not? Seriously Hayato? I was totally calling him Hikio all afternoon yesterday, y’know? That’s so embarrassing!”

Miura Yumiko was a beautiful blonde – apparently natural, so I guess she was a half. She was also equally loud and obnoxious as hell. The other girls in the group were her handmaidens, specially picked out by the oh so generous queen to make herself look even better in contrast, and who’s existence served only to inflate her already massive ego.

“I totally get you, Yumiko! Like, the other day, I was talking to Hina about that pretty little boutique in the mall and I totally called it the wrong thing the whole time! I was talking with her for like, half an hour and never even realised it! Oh, but I did try to tell you that Hikki’s name is actually…”

The one who replied this time was a pretty girl with died brunette hair. She wore her skirt super short, and had her shirt unbuttoned enough to display the Holy Grail to any who dared to stare. It really did gleam with a special light… no wait, that was just the sun glinting off the heart pendant laying in her vast valley.

By the way, such an interesting tale you wove there, Ms. Handmaiden. I personally love that you equate getting my name wrong as the same as forgetting the name of some stupid shop. Also, what the hell is a Hikki? Is that some kind of venereal disease getting spread around you Normies? Why did you make it sound like that’s my name, huh? Am I really on the same level as that kind of thing? That’s actually kind of impressive, it implies I might actually have a chance of not becoming a Wizard.

Any further gossip was cut off by the bell ringing, and our maths teacher walking through the door. I’d been feeling the urge to nap all morning, and though I fought it valiantly, alas the fell magic took hold of me at last. Farewell, good maths grades. You were too good for this world – and for me. Good riddance.

**[-]**

The rest of the day passed as well as any day could. In second period, Modern Japanese, I was rudely awakened by a book to the head, followed by a very friendly request to stay after homeroom. I don't ever want to wake up with you next to me again, sensei. You have a very scary smile, sensei.

From there, things progressed as normal; I left the classroom at lunch to go sit in my special spot, and during homeroom I pulled my light novel from my bag and started reading. My lack of social presence worked in my favour, and by the end of the day all knowledge of my freakout yesterday had passed from everyone’s memories as more important things came about.

Apparently Yuna-senpai from class 3-C was still a virgin, and that was like, so _totally_ embarrassing. How did she even call herself a woman? Seriously.

Seriously, go blow yourselves up, you sex obsessed Normies. I saw how embarrassed half of you were with that conversation. You’re all virgins as well, aren’t you? Go apologise to Yuna-senpai, I’m sure if she just got a good face cream to cover all those pimples she could totally get a boyfriend. Since you guys are like the pimples of society, maybe it’d get rid of you too.

“Hikigaya!”

I was disturbed from my daydream of drowning the Normie Court in industrial waste by the woman who seemed to live solely to make me suffer through school more than my parents. Hiratsuka-sensei was a beautiful woman, with spectacular womanly charms. She was also my homeroom and Modern Japanese teacher. My head was still throbbing from this morning, you witch.

Perhaps detecting the venomous thoughts I was harbouring for her in my head, or just plain seeing the lack of care in my gaze as I turned to look at her, she glared back as if daring me to say anything. With a sharp gesture across the area of her throat she swiftly departed the from the room, white lab coat placed overtop her pants suit swishing magnificently as she strode forth, heels clicking with every step.

What the hell? Are you a delinquent or something? What kind of teacher threatens to kill their student? Also, how long did you spend practicing that coat swish? I used to dress in my father’s coat and practice that for hours and could never pull it off. Maybe it was something that came with age? She certainly had a fair bit of that on me.

Packing and leaving the classroom was a simple matter. Light novel went back in bag, and I walked out without anyone stopping to bid me farewell, or talk to me in general. It wasn’t far then from the classroom to the staff office.

Kuoh Academy has a relatively simple, if grand, design. Built in the fashion of a massive, five storey Western mansion (complete with overly elaborate, tacky, and enormous fountain in the front courtyard) the former all-girls high-and-middle school is comprised of two wings. In both wings, the second through fourth floor held one grade, split into 10 classes each. Left wing for the High Schoolers. Right wing for the Middle schoolers.

I’d never been to the right wing, but for the high school side there was a stairwell at both ends of the wing, as well as one in the middle. As such, the staffroom was located next to the centre stairwell on the second floor so that the occupants were placed centrally and, ideally, wouldn’t need to walk too far to get to classrooms. I can only assume the Middle school is laid out similarly.

Not that that helped the poor suckers that had to walk from Class 1-A, located right next to the entrance foyer on the second floor, to Class 3-J at the end of the wing on the fourth.

Take that Onita-sensei! That’s what you deserve for trying to make future generations of young Japanese suffer through the hell you call Maths! We all have computers in our pockets these days you old coot, who needs to memorise all those boring formulas?!

On the top and bottom floors were all the clubrooms: sports teams on the first floor so that they could change and get out on the field quickly, culture clubs on the fifth floor. From what I understood, both the high school and middle school student council rooms, as well as assorted meeting rooms were located in the central building dividing the wings/schools. Alas my parents didn’t care enough to come to Parents’ Day this year so I’d thankfully never had to make use of them for the obligatory teacher meetings that were sure to follow such an event.

Anyway, since I’m in class 1-F, the staff room is practically next door to my classroom – only a short trip up the stairs away. I have in fact been standing in front of it for the past couple minutes trying to delay this meeting as much as possible.

Oh, Hiratsuka-sensei just flung the door opened and sighed at me. Guess there’s no more putting this off.

Hiratsuka-sensei’s desk was second from the door, so even as I shuffled my indoor shoes across the linoleum floor, embracing the squeaking that ensued (much to the other teachers’ chagrin), I was too soon stood across from her much too sympathetic eyes as they looked deep into mine.

“Now, Hikigaya, let’s talk about what happened yesterday.”

And just like that I knew this conversation was going to be hell. Still, I am a veteran at getting through conversations I don’t want to have. Fear me, sensei, as I come at you with every weapon in stock.

“Yesterday? What happened yesterday? Seemed like a pretty normal day to me.”

Ha! Take this! With my eyes focused on the window outside, I’ll pretend it never happened! Just like that birthday party that everyone including my parents cancelled their RSVP for. I definitely didn’t stay up all night crying that day waiting for you guys to come home only to get brushed off as you headed to bed! In fact, that birthday was great, because I got to spend it watching Komachi eat all of my cake!

“Hikigaya, averting those rotten fish eyes of yours from people is a good habit to make them tolerate you, but you shouldn’t avert them from the truth.”

Eh? That didn’t work? Also, what kind of sensei are you, calling my eyes rotten!

“Calling them something like that… makes it sound like I’m high in Omega-3.”

Fine then, sensei, if lying doesn’t work, let’s see you tackle misdirection and tangents! I promise you, when you only have yourself to talk to these are the skills that will hit their level 9999 cap first!

“Too bad Onita-sensei is more than willing to share your maths grade to prove that theory wrong. Now, stop trying to change the subject – you had a very large, very public meltdown yesterday. As school guidance counsellor, and your homeroom teacher, I need to know what happened and why.”

Ah! She blew straight through my skills! All that time spent grinding for nothing! Curse you! Curse you and your carefully honed ‘Speaking to Stubborn Students’ skill.

Fine then. I didn’t want to have to resort to it, but take this: My Certain Kill, Hidden Technique!

“…”

“Remaining silent, huh. Geez, you’re acting like an elementary student. Look, I get it. It’s embarrassing, and I’m sure you’ve been getting crap for it all day. But pretending that it didn’t happen and refusing to talk about it aren’t going to help you move on. They’ll just make it harder for you to talk about other things in the future.”

Why did she have to make so much sense? Why did she have to look at me with those kind eyes free of any and all judgement? Everyone else was perfectly content to ignore it and me and resume their lives; so why couldn’t I?

Maybe sensing the acerbic, resentment fuelled remark that was no doubt making its way onto the tip of my tongue, Hiratsuka-sensei held up a hand to stop me.

“Such a frustrating brat. I’m trying to stop you from turning into the Great Saiyaman here, you know.”

Eh, what was with that reference sensei? Are you trying to say you want me to live up to my potential instead of ending up a joke? Sorry, but I think you’re placing too much confidence in me. My destiny is to be Chichi. Although, speaking of, you have a nice pair of Chichi yourself.

The sound of air (and an arm) rushing past my ear made my head snap to attention and focus on Hiratsuka-sensei’s glare. I wasn’t staring at them, I promise. I was just looking at that pin you have there, I promise. What was that anyway? It looked older than sensei hersel-

There was no sound of rushing air this time, just the impact of her fist in my gut. Scary. You’re way too scary, Hiratsuka-sensei. You’d actually hit a student? And what was with that smug grin as you blew pretend smoke off your fist. Dammit, you’re no sexy older lady at all, are you?

“Are you ready to talk now?” I nodded my assent, and staggered over towards the seat she indicated. “Start wherever you feel like, and just let out whatever you think is pertinent.”

Wherever I feel like huh? I guess the beginning is the best place, but where even was the beginning? Looking back at my memories of the past couple weeks, it’s all just kinda hazy. Did that woman even exist, or did I really just have a bad dream and freaked out over nothing?

“A couple months ago, right before classes ended for Summer break, some girl cornered me on my way home and asked me out on a date.”

I let her snort of disbelief go. I didn’t believe it myself, after all. “I thought it was just a practical joke, that her friends were hiding behind the next corner or something waiting to laugh at me for accepting or her for being made to do it, or something.”

“I see, it is an unfortunately common prank to have people ask out someone they’re not actually interested in.”

Huh? Sensei, did that happen to you too? Are you saying guys do that to unpopular girls too? I’ve never had friends, so I had no idea. Judging by the look on her face (and the pain of her last punch) I decided to just pretend I never heard her say that.

“So, obviously, I rejected her and walked away. But then she showed up the next day. And the next. She kept asking me out and it was too annoying to keep telling her the same things so I just ignored her. But I guess she took that as acceptance ‘cause she started following me everywhere.”

Sensei was nodding along, so I guess that didn’t sound as ridiculous to her as it did to me. Were girls really that scary when they were interested in someone? Sensei, do you stalk the guys you’re interested in? No wonder I don’t see a ring on your finger.

“The weird thing was that even on the weekend, and then during Summer Break she’d show up out of nowhere while I was out doing something. I didn’t have her number or email or anything, but I guess she just lived close by? I definitely called her a stalker a few times but she always laughed it off. I guess, after a while I just got used to her, and when she asked me out again at the end of Summer I said yes.”

Really, looking back, the less things made sense. She was a nice girl, and I hated nice girls. I was a self-avowed loner – relationships existed solely to ruin men, and yet for some reason I didn’t hate it when she showed up. And, above all, there was the simple fact that…

“Sensei… Honestly, I’m saying all this but I don’t even really remember anything we talked about. Or what she looked like. I don’t remember her name, what her voice sounded like, not even the colour of her hair or what school she went to. I could swear that we’d been dating for months now, but instead it’s like she was just one big stupid fantasy.

“A fantasy that I woke up from yesterday morning thinking I’d gone on a nice Christmas date that ended after she’d turned into a stripper that stabbed me.”

Yeah, that memory was particularly dark. I don’t even remember getting out of bed that day. It’s as if the whole thing was blacked out. “To be perfectly honest, I think I really did just dream up the whole thing and went crazy.”

Sensei’s gaze was full of understanding. Why? What did she understand that I didn’t? I was just a dumb kid that did a dumb thing after a dumb dream. So why did she look at me as if she knew something that I was forgetting?

“Hikigaya, I can say with full confidence that that wasn’t a dream.”

Huh? What the hell were you talking about, sensei. Of course it was a dream. That woman had wings, you know? People don’t grow wings in real life, you know?

“Personally, I think you’re just suppressing those memories. Unfortunately, now that you’ve confirmed my suspicions, I have to leave it there while we go have a chat with someone. Any further information I can give you is really more her duty than mine, at this point.”

Seriously, sensei, what the hell are you talking about? You make it seem like there’s some kind of secret society out there controlling people’s memories. Are you with the Men In Black, sensei? Do you know a Pug that can talk to aliens, sensei?

A knock on the door interrupted me before I could get any of the thousand questions burning holes in my brain to formulate into coherent sentences. Hiratsuka-sensei impatiently bade them to wait as she set about packing up her desk for the day. It seemed she was intent on having this chat with whoever right now.

She made no mention of a problem as I got up to follow her, so I guess I was invited along. Or maybe my presence was mandatory and I was just making her job easier for her.

Ah, so that’s why they kept telling us to show initiative – it meant they didn’t have to work as hard telling a bunch of idiots what to do.

As she marched towards the door, I took the opportunity to finally organise my thoughts into something resembling coherent questions. Of course, before I could manage to get them out of my mouth reality decided to turn on its head one more time.

Just for good measure.

Coming to a complete stop after the door rattled open, my face (and in particularly my nose) made a rather sudden collision with sensei’s firm back. It would seem she packed quite a bit of muscle under that coat and suit. I never would have guessed. I tried to get a look around her to see what the hold-up was, but the tears in my eyes prevented me from getting much more than a blurry image of a girl.

“Ah, you’re here. I was just about to bring him to you guys myself.”

Apparently, sensei enjoyed speaking in a way that left me helplessly confused. Don’t you always tell me to make the subject clear in my writing, sensei? Maybe you should practice what you preach instead of speaking in vague sentences that only make sense to the person you’re talking to.

“Yes, I apologise. I was supposed to come pick him up immediately after homeroom, but I was delayed by my classmates. After that, it took a touch longer to find someone who could answer my question as to where he was. It seems you don’t leave the greatest impression on your classmates, do you Hikigaya-kun?”

The girl leaned around Hiratsuka-sensei to smile at me, and as I finally blinked the tears out of my eyes I was struck dumb.

This really did make absolutely no sense. Standing before me in all of her glory was one of the two most popular ladies in all of Kuoh:

Himejima Akeno.

What the fuck?


	2. Chapter 2

Raise your hand if you thought, "Yeah, this is about what I expected." To all of you who put your hands up: congratulations, you're delusional _and_ moronic. Because really, this made absolutely no sense. Himejima Akeno, second year student and one of the most popular ladies in all of Kuoh, stood before me in all of her glory, framed like a model in the staffroom doorway. Her gentle smile teased me about my unpopularity, and her eyes crinkled smugly, like she knew something I didn't about the secret agent bullshit sensei was pulling out of her ass.  
  
The guys in this school would literally punch themselves in the balls for her to smile at them. The girls would worship the ground she walked on if she deigned to speak a single word to them. As she did both quite frequently, there was often a chorus of high-pitched screams shouting her praises throughout the school.  
  
For my part, as I looked upon her perfect form, my heart lurched in my chest and my stomach threatened to evacuate itself from my body through my ass.  
  
I would like to reiterate, this was one of the two most popular girls in the whole school – if not city. The last time a pretty girl had given me the time of day it’d been right before my middle school life had crashed from lonely to disastrous.  
  
In fact, barring my imaginary girlfriend, the last time I’d even had something resembling a conversation with a girl who wasn’t family or a teacher was about a year and a half ago, during the June of my third year of middle school.  
  
Even then, she’d been talking to her friend behind me, I’d just been too dumb to realise it.  
  
Ahhh, let me die! I want to die! How embarrassing! I don’t want to remember such awful things!  
  
Caught up in my panic over speaking to what surmounts to a real-life school idol, I had no idea what she and Sensei were talking about. Turning my attention back to them briefly I found that they’d devolved into trading vague niceties and barbs that apparently constituted a conversation between non-familial women. Really, why couldn’t they just grow up and tell each other how they really feel.  
  
“Hikigaya-kun, I had no idea you were so besotted with me! Why, I don’t think you’ve looked away from me once since I opened the door!”  
  
Amethyst eyes glittered in bright amusement as they bored into mine, and I felt a flush creep up my neck and face. It seemed she’d had enough of testing her wit against the teacher and had turned her attention to the student.  
  
Please stop looking at me like that, senpai! I promise, I’m not dumb enough to think I stand a chance with you! Or against you, for that matter. I just want to know what’s going on.  
  
Coughing and averting my eyes, I decided that if I wanted to find out anything I had better cut the incoming storm of insults short by hastening to the point.  
  
“H-hey, do either want to fill me in on what the hell is going on, or are you two gonna stand there pretending to be important until the final bell rings?”  
  
Hiratsuka-sensei let out a huff and moved off to the side of the doorway to lean against the wall, leaving me face to face with the way too pretty girl. Wow, without sensei’s back to stand behind I realised Himejima-senpai was kind of intimidating.  
  
That smile that so many guys proclaimed to welcome them just seemed to laugh at me. Then again, most girls laughed at me, so that couldn’t be what was intimidating about her. Maybe it was her height? I don’t think she was massively tall, but something about her made it feel as though I were standing before a giant.  
  
Maybe she was just waiting for me to hit myself in the nuts for her.  
  
Over against the wall, sensei had pulled a cigarette and lighter out of her lab coat. Putting it in her mouth, lighting it and taking a drag, she looked like some hard-boiled detective right out of a manga. Maybe if you had a gun for a head that would actually look cool, but in reality, it just looked really lame. Like some delinquent hiding behind a storage shed.  
  
Himejima-senpai let out her own cough, which brought my attention back to her. Huh, there was an awful lot of coughing going on here, I hoped we weren’t all coming down with colds.  
  
“Hikigaya-kun, if you want answers, you’ll have to ask questions first.”  
  
Fancy that, suddenly she wasn’t intimidating at all. Just irritating.  
  
“Funny. Here I thought that you’d come looking for me. In fact, I distinctly recall sensei saying that if you hadn’t, I was to be brought to you. I know my grades aren’t the best, but I can put one and one together well enough to know that implies you have some responsibility for whatever the hell happened to me. So, Himejima-senpai, I’m not really in the mood to be polite: what the hell is going on?”  
  
I wasn’t normally that quick to get angry. Weirdly enough, my patience was a bit non-existent after being murdered by my girlfriend on the most romantic day of the year. Normally, I would never dream of throwing out accusations unless I had plenty of evidence to back-up my claim and a couple escape routes laid out well in advance.  
  
Something on my face must have given away my rising levels of anger and panic, because Himejima-senpai's body language shifted from looming to apologetic.  
  
“You’re right. I apologise, Hikigaya-kun. If you would please follow me, I promise that we can explain everything.”  
  
‘We’?  
  
I wanted to ask who the hell she meant by ‘we’ but even someone as deathly allergic to gossip like me knew that if Himejima Akeno was around her close friend Rias Gremory wasn’t far behind. I guess it only made sense that what one was behind, the other was involved in.  
  
Still...  
  
“Why do we need to go anywhere? Just tell me here so I can go home already.”  
  
Please, please, please just let me go home. My head was still pounding and despite my mid-morning nap I was still as lethargic as I’d been all day. Alas, sensei seemed determined to keep me from sleeping today.  
  
“Just go with her. It’ll be easier for everyone involved if you just go to their clubroom now instead of later.” Sensei said to me as she finished off her cigarette. That was fast, Sensei. You really are just like those delinquents. “Also, I wanna go home too, and I can’t do that if you insist on using the staffroom. So get out.”  
  
What she was saying made sense. Now that she mentioned a ‘clubroom’ I remembered that Himejima-senpai and Gremory-senpai were supposed to be in the Occult Research Club. I guess if I really wasn’t crazy, then that would indeed be the place most likely to have answers. Also, I wanted to kick me out and go home as well, so I can’t blame her for that.  
  
Today was the last day before Winter Break started. Who wants to stay with the crazy kid when you could be under your kotatsu at home?  
  
“Fine. The Occult Research Club right? As expected of such an exemplary senpai, your club sure worked hard to find something about what happened so soon.”  
  
What a load of bull. The Occult Research Club was just a shitty excuse to con the school into providing funds and a place to hang out with your friends after school. There was no Research of any kind conducted, except maybe on the differences between snacks. That’s how it had been at my old Middle School, and from what I heard that’s how it was here as well.  
  
Looks like I was the afternoon’s entertainment for the most popular clique in school. My respect for Hiratsuka-sensei had plummeted though. How gullible was she; to believe whatever nonsense they came up with to justify their club staying around. I’d be sure to break her idiocy to her gently when I report back in the new year.  
  
[-]  
  
“Well, now it’s just you and me, Hikigaya-kun. I do hope you can restrain yourself appropriately.”  
  
Having just left the staffroom, Himejima-senpai turned and said that to me. “Restrain myself”? Just what kind of person did she take me for exactly? Was she saying I gave out the vibe of someone that would assault his classmates? That kinda hurt.  
  
“What are you talking about Himejima-senpai? Is that the kind of person you see me as?”  
  
Senpai let out a delicate little laugh from behind her hand. Seriously? Am I cursed to be surrounded by people who think they’re in an anime?  
  
Before I could press more, she deigned to answer me as she began moving again.  
  
“I’d hear there’s a first-year boy so perverse that girls are afraid to walk alone. They say he’s been caught peeping quite a couple times too. Given how rapturously you were looking at me just then, I thought it might have been you. Are you saying it’s not?”  
  
Of course, it wasn’t! Anyone dumb enough to get caught peeping should just go turn themselves into the police already. Clearly, they were no-good degenerates that wouldn’t contribute meaningfully to this society.  
  
Ahhh, they just had to go and ruin it for the rest of us, didn’t they...  
  
I bet I knew exactly which dumbass she was talking about.  
  
Before I could correct Himejima-senpai on her vastly incorrect assumption about me though, something more pressing to mind.  
  
“Senpai, why are we heading downstairs? Aren’t the society clubrooms on the fifth floor?” Was the Occult Research Club actually a sports team? How did that even work?  
  
Senpai gave out another “ojou” style laugh. Was that actually how she laughed? How ridiculous.  
  
“The Occult Research Club has our own special clubroom away from the main campus – in the old school building off near the forest, in fact. It’s nice and secluded, so no one can hear all the... noise.”  
  
Huh? Senpai, why did you pause before saying noise? Senpai, why are you suddenly speaking in that breathy voice? Senpai, why are you looking up at me with those half-lidded eyes?  
  
Was it really about to be my popular period? Had I died and really found myself in the ecchi harem fantasy of every boy’s dreams?  
  
“Ah! Did that get you excited Hikigaya-kun? Ufufu, maybe I’ll need to restrain you myself, instead of expecting you to hold yourself back.”  
  
No. No it was not, and no I had not. That smirk on her face was nothing shy of abject mockery.  
  
That said, the thought of being tied up by Himejima Akeno in a secluded old building rushed to the forefront of my mind. Huh, I didn’t think I was into stuff like that.  
  
Giving my head a shake to purge images best left to explore later, I tried to focus on the fact that the Occult Research Club were such good swindlers they managed to make off with a whole building.  
  
“The school lets you use a whole building for your clubroom? Isn’t that a bit much? Or, you know, dangerous?”  
  
“When she was young, Buchou---that is, Rias told her father she wanted to live in Japan, and so he contributed quite a large amount of money to the school. Its why they were able to build such a large campus and add the middle school in the first place. The administrators only felt it right Rias was in turn well looked after.”  
  
Ah. So the Occult Research Club wasn’t full of genius con-artists. Rias Gremory was just so damn rich they let her do whatever the hell she wanted. I suddenly wasn’t sure how to feel about Hiratsuka-sensei sending me off with them.  
  
On the one hand, there’s no way, as a teacher, she wouldn’t know that this ‘club’ is as fake as my interest in maths. On the other hand, maybe the rich girl has resources that can be used to make the crazy disappear.  
  
Or the boy with the crazy. We _were_ heading to a cozy little building where no one could hear anything happen, after all. And the school couldn’t be happy with a budding reputation for fostering nutcases.  
  
Exchanging our indoor shoes at the lockers, we left the main building and began our trek across the campus lawn. I searched my head valiantly for a different topic – just because one beautiful girl tried to kill me didn’t mean they all would.  
  
“So how did you end up so chummy with Gremory-senpai in the first place, Himejima-senpai? I don’t think I’ve heard anyone use just her first name before.”  
  
“Hmm, isn’t that just because people would have to talk to you in the first place for you to hear about it?”  
  
Critical hit! She was so easy to talk to that I’d dropped my barrier and left my glowing weak spot wide open! She’d visited my classroom first to look for me, that meant she actually knew about me.  
  
And anyone who knew anything about me knew I was a friendless loser.  
  
“Or is that perhaps your way of asking me to do the same to you, hmm, Ha-chi-ma-n?" She was teasing me again. Even I wasn’t dumb enough not to see that she took great delight in getting me worked up.  
  
For as perfect as she looked, her personality was nearly as rotten as mine.  
  
That said, wow. It was so much different hearing your name come from a girl your age than from your parents. Caught in the moment, I took the time to _really_ look at the girl known as Himejima Akeno.  
  
And really, “perfect” was truly the only way to describe Himejima-senpai. She was the embodiment of what every lonely, pathetically sad loser virgin envisions when imagining their ideal Japanese woman. I, of course, envisioned no such thing. Imagination is for those too spineless for Google-sama. Uh, not that I would know, the folder Komachi is not to look at upon my death is full of nothing but PreCure images, I swear. I don’t even know who Shibuya Kaho is!  
  
Long black hair, shining resplendently in the evening sunlight fell to her almost her ankles from where it was gathered thickly in a high ponytail. Her face was angular and without a single blemish, skin just the right shade of pale that she didn’t look sick or delicate, simply a vision invoking thoughts of old nobility; barely accented by make-up as it appeared to be.  
  
As an aside, I longed for the days where being able to detect the amount of makeup on a woman’s face was thought to be a myth. Unfortunately, my sister had entered puberty, and as she was too perfect for my parents to scold, any criticisms they might have had on how much or how well she was using the stuff fell upon me. What the hell they expected that to do I have no idea. In the first place, shouldn’t you have taught her yourself, my beloved absentee mother?!  
  
This rant is not at all a distraction from the fact that after her face and slender neck lay a buxom bounty that no girl I have ever seen, in person or in files saved in a non-existent folder, could match. I had also not stopped to stare at it. I would never be so blatant. I was merely staring in shock that she has found a blazer and shirt that managed to cover them entirely. Not even the girl in my class with the venereal disease had been able to do that.  
  
Her waist was as small as my sister’s, and her hips flared out to complete her hourglass figure. Her legs, long and slender, stretched from beneath her skirt down to the school mandated black socks and white indoor shoes.  
  
Yep, she really was perfect.  
  
Bringing my eyes up to hers after finishing my full body visual inspection I saw tears leaking from the corners of her eyes as she tried to hold herself back from laughing at me.  
  
Let’s recap, shall we? A girl had used my first name, whereupon I had then proceeded to ogl- I mean, gape at her in shock. I don’t think it was possible to look like a bigger idiot.  
  
“Just go ahead and let it out...” I said in as dead a voice as I could manage.  
  
When she proceeded to collapse under the torrent of humour escaping her lungs I sighed and turned my gaze skyward. Before me was a sight unheard of – Himejima Akeno literally pounding the ground laughing. And I couldn’t even enjoy it over the growing desire to just run home and bury my head beneath my pillow.  
  
How long was she planning on laughing for anyway? I could see some of the guys from the Soccer club beginning to talk amongst themselves and point at us.  
  
Please don’t be able to recognise my face. I don’t want you to waste everyone’s time threatening me to stay away from someone I never want to see again.  
  
[-]  
  
Himejima was still battling through fits of giggles as we approached the old school building. Backed against the woods on the edge of town and made of wood, it was a typical two storey affair that could be found at any sufficiently large enough private school in Japan.  
  
That’s what anime would have me believe, at any rate.  
  
This old building didn’t play host to the torrid lesbian affair of the school president though. At least, I’m pretty sure it didn’t.  
  
“Hey, Himejima. How many people do you have in this club of yours, anyway?”  
  
The building seemed well cared for. Much too well for a single club to be expected to have managed. All the roof tiles appeared as though they were still brand new, the wood was freshly lacquered and without fault, and the glass in the windows showed no sign of ever interacting with the surrounding woods – no scratches, no dirt, not even the remains of a leaf caught in the sill.  
  
“Oh? No honorific, Hachiman? My, aren’t you the bold one!” Apparently, my idiocy had given her the notion that it was okay to use my name. That or she was determined to tease me using any means possible.  
  
Either way, she hadn’t answered my question.  
  
“You didn’t answer my question, witch.”  
  
“My, my. And now you’re giving me a nickname! You move so fast, Hachiman. Is this how you woo women? It’s a wonder that they aren’t begging after you all day!” She said with a smirk.  
  
How utterly vapid. I give her a 2 out of 10 on Hachiman’s Insulting Scale of Sarcasm. I could have done better than that even before I gave up on the foolish ideal of ‘youth.’ Before my elephantine experience in mocking people in my head, you were but an ant, Himejima Akeno.  
  
Even so, she still didn’t answer me, electing instead to simply open the door and gesture for me to follow her in.  
  
Doing so, I didn’t get a chance to look around before I saw her vanishing up the stairs leading to the second level.  
  
I hurried up after her, and was just in time to hear a voice call from beyond the door located immediately at the top of the stairs. “Enter.”  
  
Himejima opened the door with a flourish of her hand in my direction – presenting me like a prize to those who sat beyond.  
  
Stepping inside, I was immediately caught in the piercing gaze of Rias Gremory’s teal eyes. At least, I assumed it was her. Who else in this school had hair that red?  
  
She sat directly in front of the door at a large wooden desk, piled with paperwork, before a large window that looked out over the edge of campus grounds. Yet another person determined to live their life like an anime character, I see.  
  
If Himejima was the epitome of a Japanese beauty, then Gremory was the epitome of a Western one. As it was, however, I’d had enough of being tormented by anyone other than myself for one day, and wasn’t going to give them any more opportunities to inflict piercing damage.  
  
It was my turn, and I switched myself into Attack mode.  
  
The best way to prevent yourself from being hurt was to make yourself hated from the word go.  
  
If you expect nothing from them, and they expect nothing from you, then when one of you inevitably fails there’s nothing lost but time.  
  
“Alright, let’s hear it then. What does the outsider princess and her merry band of sycophants want with me? If you just want to get some kicks in on the crazy kid then hurry up. I have better things to do than waste time pretending to give a crap about you.”  
  
With my words I would make myself a monster. A basilisk. With my petrifying glare and potent venom, all would wither before me.  
  
Unfortunately, it seemed my venom wasn’t nearly as potent as I’d hoped it to be. Gremory showed no visible reaction, and neither did Himejima as she crossed the room to stand beside her friend.  
  
Lacing her hands in front of her, Gremory simply met my glare with an even gaze. It’s not that her placidity scared me, but keeping eye contact was considered rude among us Japanese, so I averted my eyes to stare out the window behind her.  
  
You got a really good view of the girl’s lacrosse team practicing from that window.  
  
“Hikigaya-kun,” Gremory said. I brought my eyes back to her eyebrows. “I want to offer you an explanation for what happened, as well as apologise.”  
  
An apology? This was new. Normally I was the one who had to apologise for being in a girl's presence.  
  
“Unless you’re apologising for having Himejima drag me here then I don’t really care what you have to say.” Still not a single change in expression. My poison wasn’t that weak, was it? She must have had a Ribbon equipped under that school uniform of hers.  
  
“Hikigaya-kun, I understand that you are upset and angry, but I would ask that you refrain from saying anything more until you have heard what I have to say.”  
  
Whoa. Scary. Too scary. What kind of monster are you? A basilisk?  
  
“Sure thing.” I said, cowed.  
  
I scanned my surroundings briefly for a place to sit, but the only seats seemed to be some couches, already filled with spectators, located against the walls. That was fine, standing at attention as I got lectured at was old hat for me.  
  
Ascertaining that I had no bile left to spew in her direction, Gremory began.  
  
“Two days ago, you were stabbed in the stomach and left for dead in the snow.” No, I’m pretty sure if that had happened, I’d actually be dead. Please check reality, senpai, I’m just c- “You are not crazy. You did not imagine this situation, nor did you imagine the woman who did such a thing to you.”  
  
Was she a mind reader? And wait, did she know something about my imaginary girlfriend?  
  
“Hikigaya-kun, it is my unfortunate duty to inform you that that night, the human being known as Hikigaya Hachiman drew his last breath. He was murdered by a being that he loved. A being who had taken advantage and sick enjoyment out of such a thing to veil herself and her actions for months whilst inside my territory.”  
  
“Hold on,” I couldn’t help myself from cutting in. “ _Your_ territory? I know you rich types like to pretend you own the world but that’s going a bit far, isn’t it?” Or maybe it wasn’t. She might have been the daughter of a mob boss for all I knew. In which case I am very sorry for those nasty words I said.  
  
“Yes. Kuoh is my territory. Or to be more exact, it is the territory of my family, and I am its current caretaker.” Before I could display my stupidity for the world to see once more, Gremory swiftly moved on. “Unfortunately, we do not know the true identity of your killer, merely suspicions, and certainly no names that can be attached to them. As such, I’m afraid I cannot fulfil your dying wish just yet.”  
  
The mob boss princess theory was getting stronger and stronger with every word. As was the likelihood of my bladder releasing itself where I stood.  
  
“My dying wish?” That said, I really couldn’t help but ask questions.  
  
“Yes. You summoned me with the last of your will – no doubt enhanced through your Twice Critical. When I arrived before you, you asked me ‘Why?’ before passing out.”  
  
“Hold on, what?” I just couldn’t keep my damned mouth shut today. “Summoned? Twice Critical? What kind of chuuni hell are you dragging me into?” We’d gone from crazy to mob boss and back to crazy in the space of less than five minutes. Just my luck, really. Of course the only people who would think to talk to me are the ones crazier than I am.  
  
Ugh, if I’d known that this was how my day was going to go I should have just stayed home this morning.  
  
A look of contrition cross Gremory’s face, cracking her cool façade as a blush grew in its place. Himejima was covering her mouth and laughing, again, and off to the sides I heard some kind of noise from our as of yet unidentified spectators.  
  
I should probably rectify that as soon as I got a straight answer for why I was even here.  
  
“Ah, well... you see, Hikigaya-kun...” Gremory seemed to be having some trouble starting.  
  
“Hachiman,” Himejima said, instead. I guess she was the sane one that liked to go along with her friend’s imagination. I could kind of respect that. Ignoring the wide-eyed look she got from Gremory, she plowed on. “Every single person in this room is a Devil.”  
  
So long, respect! I’ll pray for your safe journey as you travel down the drains to join faith in society.  
  
Of course, that was when she sprouted a pair of wings.  
  
So did Gremory.  
  
A noise off to the side drew my attention to a handsome blonde and a silver haired loli. They both had wings too.  
  
Looking back at the two women in front of me, I just listened to Gremory in a state of shock.  
  
“It’s as Akeno said. We are Devils. That day, you received a flyer from one of our familiars. On it was inscribed a magical circle, which would summon us should you express a strong desire that we could fulfil. When you summoned me, sustained only by your Twice Critical, I heard your wish and I took it upon myself to reincarnate you as a member of my Peerage, so that together we may seek the answer and find justice for your murder.”  
  
Every word just gave me more questions. Familiars? Magic circles? Reincarnation? Peerage? And she still hadn’t answered what the hell a Twice Critical was. There was so much I wanted, no _needed_ to ask but I still couldn’t quite get over the whole _wings_ thing.  
  
It was like I’d been sucked into a shitty light novel and just expected to roll with the flow.  
  
While I struggled to form the most pressing question I could – some combination of ‘what the fuck,’ and ‘are you fucking kidding me,’ the handsome blonde moved to set a hand on my shoulder. Was that supposed to be comforting?  
  
With him this close to me, I recognised him: Kiba Yuuto, the gentleman ace of the Kendo Club. Between him and the Soccer Club’s Hayama I didn’t think there were any girls in the first year left for the rest of us to try our luck with impressing. If he really wanted to comfort me, he should’ve just jumped out the window.  
  
Looking over at the loli, I didn’t recognise her. It looked like she was wearing the Middle School uniform though, so I guess I’d have to ask someone. Or just ask Komachi when I get home. I’ll go with the latter, since that’s more likely to get a straight answer unlike what I’ve been getting so far from these useless guides to the next life.  
  
With my mind finally reset back to normal operating order, I managed to squeeze out one of my million questions.  
  
“So... I’m a... Devil now? And a member of your... what did you call it? Peerage? Whatever the hell that is. How does that even work?”  
  
Yep, totally back to normal. My voice cracked every second word, but I’m sure that was just puberty having a resurgence.  
  
Gremory nodded her head. “Yes, all High Class devils, like myself, are given at a certain age what we call Evil Pieces.” She pulled a red chess piece (a pawn, if I remember the game correctly) from literal thin air. “With these Pieces, we can implant a portion of our power and magic into your soul, transforming it to match ours – thus giving rise to a new Devil. Those who bear our Pieces become our Peerage, servants to the King. That is, the original High Class Devil who reincarnated them.  
  
“Reincarnated Peerage members are automatically ranked as Low Class devils, but also gain the rights and responsibilities of governing pieces of their King's Underworld territory. If they fight well in Rating Games and fulfil enough requests they can rank up to High Class in no time.” So to get things straight, I was now a literal servant to a Devil destined to waste my life away catering to their whims and thanklessly managing their land. I also had to fight and play genie. It wasn’t quite a slave, but it was also a far worse even than being a salaryman.  
  
“I see. So, I’m now your Servant?” Gremory nodded her head, beaming at me. Why the hell are you so happy? Do you enjoy the suffering of others? Does it bring you a sick sense of glee to tear a person from all they know and love and force them to serve you? How messed up is the rest of your society if this is the bright sparkly stuff you present to the newly indoctrinated.  
  
Gremory rushed to reassure me. “Although you may be called a Servant or a Low Class Devil, you are still much higher placed than a great many other Devils. My family is one of the founding 72 of the Underworld, and we treat our Peerage like family.”  
  
Right, so what you’re saying is that Devil society sucks so bad that a “Low Class” servant of the nobility is higher in the pecking order than the average citizen. Also, “my family?” That means that to most other families servants are servants, and they’re treated as such. You wouldn’t need to mention that otherwise.  
  
“And is there a way to return to being human?” I doubted it, but I still felt the need to ask. Given the troubled look that crossed her and Himejima’s faces, I knew the answer before they bothered to respond. If there was one, they weren’t telling me. “Never mind. In that case, what happens to someone who runs away or stops obeying their ma- King?”  
  
If I thought the look they gave me about returning to normal was troubled, this one was like their dog was about to be run over by a limo. Gremory tapped Himejima on her shoulder and motioned towards the corner to her left. I tracked Himejima with my eyes as she moved towards it, and saw a tea set. How quaint.  
  
“In such a situation,” Gremory hesitantly said. “Such a Devil would be declared a Stray. And an order would be issued to all territory holders proclaiming the need for their capture and return or their elimination, depending on the degree of their disobedience, and any crimes they may commit.”  
  
In other words, serve or die.  
  
Go back to hell, damn you.  
  
I stared around the room, seeing everything but taking in nothing as I tried to find something, anything to steer my mind away from the swelling tide of dark emotion that threatened to ruin my life more than it already was. It would do me no good to lash out and get myself branded a ‘Stray’ so soon. I just needed to swallow my feelings and act as if everything was fine.  
  
It must have been a day ending in ‘Y’.  
  
The silence ended when Himejima came bearing a tray loaded with cups of tea. She tried to present a cup to me, but I waved her off. The longer I stayed here the easier it would be for me to screw up. In which case, going home was my best option. Which meant I needed to finish this conversation. And to do that...  
  
“Gremory... you said you wanted to apologise for something. What was it?”  
  
“You’re right, I did.” She smiled gently at Himejima as a cup of tea was placed in front of her. “I wanted to apologise for the delay in bringing you here and explaining things. I thought it best to give you some time to come to terms with what happened, but I didn’t anticipate the degree to which those events had affected you. I deeply apologise for the harm my inaction caused you.”  
  
Or, in more accurate terms, you hadn’t realised that when the boy with no friends wakes up thinking the only person who cared about him tried to kill him, he’d have a public meltdown. And now that I did, you’re sorry that your own reputation is about to be dragged down when you get caught associating with me.  
  
“It’s fine. My reputation was already bad, and it’s not like I have any friends that’ll worry over me or anything. By the time everyone comes back from break it’ll be old news.”  
  
“That’s not...” Gremory started, but cut herself off with a sigh. “Hikigaya-kun, I know that I’ve dumped a lot of information on you, and I’m sure you have plenty of questions still, but I want you to know that from now on, every person in this room is your friend. So long as we live, I promise you, you’ll never feel alone again.”  
  
The smile she gave me was almost as bright as the sun. It was one mirrored by Kiba next to me. Himejima grinned at me from where she was serving tea to the loli, and the loli herself was giving me a small smile.  
  
Seriously, what kind of shitty light novel had I found myself in. An isekai without being an isekai, where the loner MC is gifted his aspirations for friends on a silver platter in the form of a harem of girls and a handsome best friend. I’m sure this is the part where I’m supposed to revoke my loner ways and give in to the beautiful bonds of friendship bound to flourish in this brand new world.  
  
I nodded at Gremory and left.  
  
What a load of bullshit.  
  
If this were a light novel, my days ahead would be full of fun, friendship and fighting. I’d be able to look over the fact that I was a servant with a smile because I was with people who cared about me. I’d accept my new life as a Devil, and become a playboy with a hundred and one girls drooling over me but unable to commit to anything beyond hand holding.  
  
But life isn’t a light novel, and no one cares about me. I was a servant, one that would be killed if I even tried to rebel. There were no girls drooling over me, and I wasn’t about to become a playboy.  
  
Gremory wanted me to believe there was no becoming a human again.  
  
And maybe there wasn’t.  
  
Gremory believed turning me into a Devil was the only way I’d find out ‘why?’  
  
And maybe it was.  
  
It didn’t matter. The human Hikigaya Hachiman supposedly died two days ago, but I wouldn’t let him. Even if it was only a half life, I would cling to the humanity that remained embedded in my mind.  
  
I’d play along with being a devil for now. But I wasn’t going to play nice.


	3. Chapter 3

Waking up in the afternoon of my first day of break, it almost felt as if life had finally gone back to normal. No girlfriend of 5 months calling me in the morning demanding a date. Never had been. No devils trying to tell me they pissed rainbows and spat sprinkles lying to my face about wanting to be friends.  
  
My old man sucked, but his advice didn’t. Someone being overly familiar with you as soon as you met them was trying to sell you something. I guess in this case that something was: life as a slave isn’t so bad.  
  
Yeah, and I was the Bodhisattva Hachiman reborn.  
  
There wasn’t even a precocious little sister demanding I get up and do something. No, there was nothing more than a lazy sixteen-year-old who had pulled an all-nighter playing games and fallen into the realm of Morpheus to escape the rising light of Apollo.  
  
Tossing and turning away from the awful, burning light, I struggled in vain to cling to the vestiges of my passing dreams.  
  
 _Her warm breath in my ear fogged my brain. Her hair, a curtain of darkness shading darker eyes, tumbled over my shoulders and carried the promising scent of sweet strawberries._ _I was the prey, helpless and prone on the grass underneath. She was the huntress elated with her catch, trapping me beneath her with leonine grace and power. She would devour all of me, and rather than struggle, I wanted to surrender._ _She wet her lips slowly with her tongue, and I knew every word that emerged would be the truth. "I really like you, Hachiman."_  
  
I sprung from my bed with all the force I could manage. Turns out I could manage to get my face to meet my door handle a half second before the rest of my body crashed into the door itself. There was no pain, I belatedly noticed. Instead, I was more focused on the intense sensation of nausea rising up from the depths of my stomach.  
  
That face… that voice… _the feel of her body above mine_ … already they were disappearing from my mind, and yet the feelings they had stirred left me cowering on the floor in a sheen of sweat. I was shaking from the cold, and the beam of light peeking past my curtain had my eyes watering.  
  
If I were to compare what I’d felt in that moment to how I’d felt in middle school, there was no competition.  
  
I swore to myself that I’d never let myself experience that hell again.  
  
I stood, trying to ignore the lethargy the sun seemed to bring upon me, and checked my door over for any signs of damage, then made for the toilet. I needed to brush the taste of a night’s sleep out of my mouth.  
  
That done, I headed downstairs to scrounge something up to eat. It was only a little after three, so it’d still be a while before Komachi started preparing dinner for the family. Our folks never really made it home in time, and yet she steadfastly and summarily denied any and all requests to just make it earlier for us and stick the rest in the fridge.  
  
Care like that was probably part of the reason they favoured her over me, but I couldn’t see the point in making myself go hungry for a couple more hours just so their food had only been cold for two hours rather than five. It’s not my problem you can’t say no to after work drinks with your boss, old man.  
  
My quest for sustenance within the cupboards was interrupted by a pair of slender arms winding their way around my waist. What the hell… was I still asleep? It’s every house husband’s dream to be hugged from behind by a lovely woman, but that’s normally when they’re cooking. Also, the one hugging them is their wife, and a glance behind me revealed the last person on Earth I wanted to marry.  
  
Komachi was too good for a deadbeat like me. She’d work then come home and do all the housework as well. If she came up to me and said “Big bro, I wanna marry you when I grow up!” I’d have to refuse. Dad would beat me up if you said that to me instead of to him, you know.  
  
Komachi’s face remained buried in my back. When her arms began to tremble, I became worried.  
  
“Hey, hey, what’s up? Did something happen? Did Kamakura escape? Did some little shit ask you out and not take no for an answer? Tell me his name! I promise you won’t ever see him again!”  
  
While I panicked and threatened to beat up a fourteen-year-old, Komachi’s trembling arms intensified. So it really was some little worm!  
  
My nascent plans to hunt down a middle schooler were interrupted when Komachi broke into peals of laughter. My confusion must have looked especially funny, because her laughs grew louder when she finally saw my face.  
  
“Hey, Bro, did you seriously throw a fit at school about getting dumped in one of your games? I knew you were trash, but I didn’t think you were that deep in the dump!” Bile rose up in my throat at the thought of how far the rumours had spread and how badly they had been mangled. Even middle school girls who didn’t attend Kuoh had already heard them!  
  
“Don’t be ridiculous,” I said. “Your big brother is way better than that. I’ll have you know he had a fit because he dreamed a crazy ex killed him, and thought it was real.” I wanted to cry at the thought of lying to my sister, but there was no way in hell I was getting her involved in a supernatural slavery ring. There was also no way in hell I was going to let people think I was some loser otaku.  
  
Komachi looked at me dubiously. If she didn’t believe me, I was prepared to explain in excruciating detail the looks and words of derision I’d received mid-fit, but she chose to hug me again instead.  
  
“Whatever happened, I’m just glad you’re okay,” she mumbled into my shirt. Looking down at her, I realised that it must have been hard for her hearing those rumours. She’d probably been hearing all sorts of horrible things about her brother and hadn’t had any way of finding out what was true or not. I hadn’t exactly made myself available since Christmas morning. “Ah, this must give me so many Komachi points.”  
  
My sympathy was wasted on this brat. “What the hell are Komachi po— “ I was cut off by the sound of the doorbell.  
  
A quick ocular duel left me defeated and dragging my feet towards the door while Komachi went back to whatever.  
  
I took a moment to try (and fail) to put a smile on my face. Screw whoever was at the door. I wanted food, and they were keeping me from it.  
  
Opening it up, I was left dumbfounded to see Gremory standing there in all her buxom glory. She was dressed in her school uniform, despite the break. Did she not own any other clothes? Maybe all she owned were Devil clothes that would repulse for our poor, pious human eyes.  
  
Like all good Japanese people, I made sure to greet her with respect.  
  
Komachi cried in alarm as the sound of the door slamming shut echoed throughout the house. Huh, that was louder than I expected. Maybe the old man really didn’t mean to slam it every morning when he left. On the other hand, the old bastard should damn well know better by now – he’s been doing it for years.  
  
I made a promise to myself to slam it extra hard this weekend. Just for him.  
  
My trudge back towards my room was cut short when Komachi poked her head out from whatever she was doing in the living room. That’s a mighty fine glare you have there. If I didn’t know you were in fact the cutest thing in the world, I’d swear you were an evil fairy on the cusp of becoming a dragon.  
  
By the way, the finger you’re pointing at the door does you no favours in that regard. It just makes you look like mom on a bad day. Don’t try and copy her too much, okay? Dad would seriously kill me if I gave you wrinkles as well!  
  
I don’t even know why she gave a crap about me answering the door. I considered it as I paced back over. Did the Devil on my doorstep somehow corrupt her? What would I do if she had? I wonder how effectively toilet water would substitute for Holy Water? Wait, did Holy Water even work on Devils, or was that a myth?  
  
“So? What the hell are you doing here?” Opening the door, I spat the first thing I could think of. Really, some might find it bizarre that I made such a rude display of myself despite wanting to be a house husband. I would simply shake my head at them as they're devoured by the vampire they let inside.  
  
Just as it did yesterday, my poison had no effect on her. That was just plain unfair. Early bosses aren’t meant to be immune to poison. Loners like me who have wasted our days grinding to get the ability early aren’t supposed to have our efforts mitigated so quickly.  
  
“Hikigaya-kun. Might you come with me to a nice café nearby? I wanted to continue our conversation from yesterday.” Her lips quirked into that perfect smile. No doubt practiced a thousand times from a young age for the sole purpose of fooling idiots. The way she clasped her hands in front of her so that her arms pushed together and emphasised her womanly appeal added bouncy detail to her false air.  
  
“Hell no. What do you want?” I needed to end this fast. I didn’t want to go, and social pressure might force me.  
  
I could already hear Komachi stirring again as her curiosity was roused. I guess it was pretty obvious that I wasn’t talking to the Amazon delivery driver.  
  
“As I said, I’d like to continue our conversation from yesterday. It ended rather quickly and there’s quite a lot we never got to cover – I didn’t even get a chance to answer all your first set of questions.” True, I was still rather curious what the hell that Twice Critical thing was…  
  
No! Stay strong, Hachiman! This is your Winter Break. No dumb devils and their supernatural BS were going to keep you from being a couch potato for these next two weeks!  
  
“That’s nice, but can’t it wait until class resumes? I’m not one of your club members, so it’s not like you needed to come all the way from Kuoh to visit me. …How did you know my address anyway?”  
  
“But you are a member!” She sounded too damn perky about informing me of yet another bond of slavery being imposed upon me. “I had Akeno push through your application last night! We had to look up your personal details from your office records, but….”  
  
I didn’t bother to pay attention to the rest of whatever spiel she was giving me. I just had to resist the urge to grin like a madman. Thank you, Gremory, for giving me exactly what I need to get rid of you!  
I screwed up my face into the most disgusted look I could imagine. It was easy. I just copied the look girls gave me whenever we were paired in English class. “You stole my personal record so you could force me to join your _club_?!” I made sure to raise my voice so that Komachi could hear. Even she wouldn’t want anything to do with some stalker, right? No matter how pretty and nice they acted. “That’s so creepy! Do you, like, have any idea how seriously pathetic that sounds?! Seriously, freaky! No wonder you’re a virgin.”  
  
I closed the door once more in her baffled face.  
  
Turning to finally return to my room, I came face to face with my beloved little sister once again. Her eyes regarded mine with the same consideration as a month’s worth of unwashed dishes. Whether she found what she was looking for or not I have no idea, she just sighed and shooed me off.  
  
How indulgent of you, Komachi! Thank you for understanding that your big brother has no time for the vile niceties of being a decent human person. Your brother knows and understands that he is a walking pile of trash. Please help me explain this to our parents so that they’ll let me stay at home and live off their support for the rest of my life.  
  
Retreating to my room, I heard Komachi open the door and begin apologising to the evil monster who apparently still lurked on our doorstep.  
  
She was such a good girl. She'd even apologise to foul monstrosities that dared ask innocent boys to actually leave the house on their winter break.  
  
Seriously, go back to hell, Rias Gremory.  
  


* * *

  
Unfortunately for my sanity, Gremory had been disinclined to remove herself from my house and Komachi, bless her still innocent soul, had been far too enraptured with the gorgeous beast to force her out.  
  
Instead I’d been forced to listen to the incessant prattle of a little girl trying to act mature talking shop with an older, foreign girl who seemed to grow more immature with every passing sentence. Faced with the options of confronting her face to face again or remaining imprisoned within my bedroom, I was ready to be called the Prisoner of Azkaban.  
  
I had the soul devouring monsters outside my cell and everything.  
  
When at last the sun began to set, and Gremory had returned from whence she came, I poked my head outside my bedroom door to check that she hadn’t just pretended to leave.  
  
I was met by a disgusted look from Komachi.  
  
“Rias-neechan said that another member of the Occult Research Club will come around tomorrow, since you don’t want to talk with her. She seemed really sad too. You suck, Bro.”  
And with that she left me to my own devices.  
  
Which was good, because it allowed me to instantly start making plans to be anywhere but in this house when the next interloper descended upon my divine respite.  
  
Thus as the infernal sun breached the horizon and cascaded upon me a headache of assuredly diabolic origin, the overly observant, not to mention tasteless, stalker finds me riding my bike away from my house in Chiba and to the arcade in Kuoh some 10-odd kilometres away.  
  
If Gremory was sending one of her lackeys all the way into Chiba city to look for me, the perfect place to be instead was hiding in tiny little Kuoh. Let the Devils waste their day scrounging through Chiba’s many amusement places. I’ll spend my morning instead beating all who are foolish enough to challenge me in Tekken before the try-hard losers with more money than sense show up to beat me around lunch, and then I’ll laugh comfortably through the afternoon from a nearby internet cafe with unlimited refills.  
  
It was the perfect plan.  
  
So it was in following that plan that I laughed gleefully as the latest middle schooler stepped up to the partnered arcade cabinet, replacing the elementary schooler, the fifth kid so far, that I’d cleaned up in three consecutive perfect rounds. The little scrub.  
  
“Don’t worry, Kenta. I’m gonna kick this boomer’s ass for you. Promise!” Say what you want about me brat, you’ve got nothing I’ve never heard before. We’ll see how happy your little brother is when he sees his hero fall like the rest.  
  
I take no pleasure in saying it was an utter obliteration. A single combo string paired with the right stage meant that the timer had barely ticked below 80 before the round was over. Repeat x3.  
  
That was a lie. I took enormous pleasure in it. It would be no exaggeration to say that that was the best thing I’d felt since before Christmas. I stood tall and proud, cackling like the stereotypical villain I no doubt was in this scene right out of a shitty 4-koma.  
  
Before I could issue a proclamation of my complete dominance, I was cut short by an impatient voice already seated behind the partnered machine.  
  
“Sit down, shut up, and fight me.”  
  
What a rude girl. At least I think it’s a girl. Might be a boy with a high-pitched voice. Puberty can suck like that sometimes. My voice didn’t crack until halfway through middle school.  
  
“Nah, I’ve had enough of beating on little kids. How about trying that guy?” I pointed at a random kid in the crowd around the machines. “He might be more on your level.”  
  
My would-be opponent said nothing as I strolled away. Good. I wasn’t scared of a kid. I was just tired of playing that game. In fact, I was in the mood for a rail shooter.  
  
That the rail shooters are on the next level and on the opposite side from the fighters has absolutely nothing to do with that decision.  
  
When I finally made it there, I had my pick from all of them. What did I feel like shooting…? Zombies? Nah, that’s just too cliché. Transformers? Why were these things still around? The movies were years ago, and they all sucked. There was also a police one and… was that aliens? Of course, it was.  
  
Holy crap these were all so _old_. What’s wrong with these game companies? Can’t they make something that isn’t a complete rehash?  
  
Deciding to go with aliens, I made my way over and lackadaisically progressed through the controls and superfluous fluff.  
  
“Hey mister, can I join?” Lost as I was, I hadn’t noticed when some kid approached me. I could barely make out the voice over the screams of dying extra-terrestrials.  
  
“Sure, whatever. Don’t expect me to carry you, though.”  
  
Any worry about needing to help them was completely unnecessary, though. The kid was a crack-shot.  
  
I was able to steal some glances at her between levels but could only take in the barest of details. She barely reached the middle of my chest. White hair. A familiar uniform.  
  
A uniform on an elementary schooler, huh. Must be some rich brat going to a fancy private school.  
  
When we managed to clear the final boss, a devil-like thing that had nothing to do with aliens, I was finally able to turn my head and take her in properly.  
  
“You really suck at games, huh Senpai,” the brat said from beside me. “Don’t talk about carrying people when you need to be carried yourself, loser.”  
  
Her final score was over 2 million more than mine. Her number of rescues didn’t need to be mentioned.  
  
I see. She wasn’t in elementary school; she was in middle school. She wasn’t a brat; she was a loli.  
  
Gremory’s loli.  
  
According to my perfect plan, she should have been wasting her day hunting for me in Chiba City’s arcades. Not handing me my ass in Kuoh’s.  
  
Well, too bad for her. I wasn’t going to give her the satisfaction of reacting to her presence. I would just ignore her and continue with my plan.  
  
Too bad for me that I forgot even the greatest of plans don’t survive an encounter with an enemy.  
  
If I had, I might not have spent the next hour being trailed around the arcade getting my ass kicked in every game I tried. It didn’t matter what type of game I played—racing, rhythm, even Pac-Man; it didn’t matter what kind of dirty trick I pulled (and I seriously tried all of them that I knew); or how ridiculously inappropriate the game, she was there ready and able to defeat me soundly.  
  
And I’d thought I was decent at Strip Mahjong, dammit…  
  
Even if I went for games with no partner cabinets, she just stood there like a creepy little statue staring blankly into the back of my head.  
  
Have fun with that, you little blight on the world. I’m playing Trivia.  
  
“So, there is something you’re not terrible at,” my unwanted observer commented as I answered a question about Chiba—I was so good at those questions I should just change my name to Hachibaman, already.  
  
“Shut up and leave me alone already, you damn loli,” I said under my breath. That comment earned me a kick to the leg that I swear almost shattered it.  
  
“Ow! What kind of demonic loli are you? You’re way too strong.”  
  
Now my other leg felt like it had barely survived being broken. Alright, note to self: don’t call the loli a loli when there aren’t other people to hide behind.  
“I’m strong because I’m a Rook. Way stronger than a Bishop like you will ever be, even with your Twice Critical.” Her voice was way too smug for someone who would be lucky to escape being called a midget for the rest of her life. And seriously, what the hell was this Twice Critical thing.  
  
“Why are you bringing up chess?” The terms obviously meant something—and considering Gremory had pulled out a Pawn piece when explaining Evil Pieces, I’m assuming it was something important.  
  
“Too complicated to explain,” she yawned. Literally. It was actually really hard to understand what she said. You really are a rude little brat. “Ask Rias.”  
  
Right, I’ll get right on that. Right between never and when hell freezes over. Now that I think about it…  
  
“Hey, brat. Is Hell frozen or is it still full of flames.” Since she didn’t seem to be leaving any time soon, and my legs were too sore to keep standing at the trivia game, I might as well pick her brain for some knowledge while I rested. First up was whether I’d be spending the rest of my life in Australia or Antarctica.  
  
“Neither. Hell doesn’t exist, we live in the Underworld.” The frown on her face made it clear that she found my labelling of her home offensive. Like I cared. You could live in a perfect recreation of my house; so long as my time there was as a wage slave (emphasis on slave) to Devils then it was Hell. “And it’s normal. It looks just like the human world, except the sky is purple and there are no oceans.”  
  
“Right, sounds like Paradise.” I said sarcastically. She twitched slightly at my words, and I chalked a point up in my favour. Hachiman: 1, Loli: too many to count. “How’d you find me anyway, brat?”  
  
“Contrary to whatever you think, the world doesn’t revolve around you.” I’m well aware of that. I am a side-character among side-characters, not even worthy to add flavour to the protagonist’s world. In an anime, they wouldn’t even bother drawing my face. I’d be lucky to keep my hair. “You being here has nothing to do with me being here. Your sister messaged Rias this morning saying you’d left. I thought it’d be a pain in the ass trying to look for you and came here. Just my luck you were here picking on kids.”  
  
“I didn’t come here just to pick on kids, brat. I—“ She cut me off.  
  
“My name is Koneko. Use it. And I don’t care. I talked to you, so my job is done. Go away.”  
  
Well, at least there was one among their number I could count on to care about me as much as I cared about them.  
  
Watching the lol— watching _Koneko_ get up and walk away, I realised it was going on lunch time and I’d spent less money at the arcade than I’d expected. I didn’t even need to waste money hiring a cubicle at the internet café. The internet at home was better and I now knew no one would be coming.  
  
This called for a celebratory lunch at Saize, I think.  
  


* * *

  
I stared down at the plate of pasta I was picking at. People say Saizeriya serves substandard, uninspired slop straight off the assembly line. Lying morons, all of them. Saize is a fantastic family restaurant.  
I’d like to see whatever shitty local eatery you think is better, idiots. I bet it doesn’t even have unlimited free refills, does it? Ha, I thought not! Not even Gusto has that!  
  
“Why did we have to come here to eat? You know we passed a Gusto on the way, right?”  
  
For that matter, why was I even here? This wasn’t my room. I had conquered the loathsome Devils who disturbed my Winter hibernation, but they had nothing on the inconsiderate whims of a fourteen-year-old girl, apparently.  
  
Said girl ignored my question, distracted by her phone. How rude. At the dining table, phones should be put away in favour of making conversation with the people in front of you.  
  
That’s what you and mum kept telling me, at least. Are you saying I’m free to go back to ignoring her lectures to ‘at least join a club, Hachiman?’  
  
I’ll join a club willingly the day you work less than 12 hours, mother dearest.  
  
Komachi snapped her phone shut with a huff and levelled me with a glare. Whoa! I promise I’ll keep faking that I’m listening to mum, so stop looking at me like that. Also, hurry up and replace that flip-phone. It's embarrassing being seen with someone so out of date.  
  
“Hurry up and finish your food,” Komachi said, unnervingly serious. "You're taking me clothes shopping. The sooner we start, the more I'll get to try.”  
  
While I’m sure that sounds just _dire_ to a preteen girl, I couldn’t care less. It must have shown on my face, because her scowl got worse. What the hell? Who are you, and what have you done with Komachi? Komachi is too cute to look like my tormentors from last year.  
  
No really, you’re too cute Komachi. Your Mean Look has no effect on Hachiman.  
  
Instead of falling prey to her childish glower, I responded in turn with my own childish mind. “Why?”  
  
“I just told you.” The look on her face screamed ‘stop being stupid.’ Sorry, but being stupid is keeping me away from going clothes shopping. I’ll be dumber than one of Miura’s handmaidens if it keeps me from that plight.  
  
“Okay. But why?”  
  
“Because I want new clothes.”  
  
“Sure, but why?”  
  
Komachi’s highly unimpressed stare made me giddy with satisfaction. “You suck, Hachiman.”  
  
Then she reached over the table and stole my food. She didn’t even take the plate. Just stabbed her fork into the spaghetti, gave it a twist and lifted the whole thing off of it to place on to her own. I didn’t know whether to be impressed or upset. So I settled for being annoying as I forced myself to make do with the one meatball she’d left behind.  
  
“Seriously though, why _me_? Don’t you have friends to do this kind of stuff with?”  
  
"Of course I do. Unlike you, I’m popular. They're all at a _concert_ today." She jabbed her fork into the plate so hard it might have cracked. Come to think of it, hadn't Komachi been complaining about sold out tickets for the last month? I don’t see why that should be my problem though.  
  
“So, what? You didn’t think I might’ve had plans too?”  
  
Komachi didn’t even look up from her plate. “You’re _you_. I know you didn’t.”  
  
I couldn’t refute that. So I just sat and scowled while she finished eating my food.  
  


* * *

  
Soon enough she was done, and after paying the bill (her treat, since she ate for both of us), Komachi dragged me towards whatever clothing boutique is popular among middle schoolers.  
  
It didn’t take long for me to give up trying to keep track of where we were in the city. Instead I decided to spend the time thinking up new insults that I could use on the Devils when school started up again. The pretty girls actually talking to me caught me off guard before, but I won't be too dumbfounded to respond appropriately in the future.  
  
I couldn’t let them walk all over me. I couldn’t let them keep setting the pace. And I sure as hell couldn’t keep regurgitating the braindead playground insults other people had used on me before.  
I wanted them to leave me alone. To get that, I needed them to hate me. To see me as a disgusting blight upon their otherwise pristine lives. I couldn’t settle for just dislike—people get their kicks out of bothering people they dislike. It was only when you conjured all the wrathful fire of adolescence that they were content with ignoring your existence.  
  
My middle school experience stands as testimony to this. QED.  
  
But you don’t hate idiots that talk like they’d think IQ is something to eat. You just pity them. And nothing is more annoying than being pitied. A pitiable existence is one with a glowing neon sign attached luring in normies who want to virtue signal. I won’t be a slave to devils and I won’t be a rusty tool for you to use to better your reputations.  
  
"Get that look off your face. Your dead fish eyes have already given three old women heart attacks." Komachi’s voice cut through the mire of loathing my mind was fast becoming. We were in the boutique, a cosy little place full of floor to ceiling shelves stuffed with all kinds of girls clothes. It was warm, smelled faintly of lavender and featured my little sister standing in front of me in her bra and panties.  
  
"That has nothing to do with my eyes, and everything to do with you walking in and out of that dressing room in your underwear."  
  
She looked down at her own body then back at me. "Nope, definitely you."  
  
I cast my eyes around, looking for anyone I might recognise bearing witness to her dynamic display of shamelessness. For a moment I thought I might have seen a familiar flash of blond but disregarded it. We were in the heart of Chiba; blonde wasn’t hard to come by between tourists and university students. I could let Komachi do as she pleased. She wasn’t hurting anyone but her cringing future self.  
  
Komachi skipped back over to me with arms full of different skirts and tops. I watched on in silence as she mixed and matched holding them over her body. When she spent a while considering a combo of a pink cropped sleeveless top and a purple skirt that seemed to only go to mid-thigh I had to comment.  
  
“You realise it's winter, right?” I said in a tone specially reserved for the especially dim-witted. It was disappointing that I only ever got to use it on my little sister. “And that you're not a JRPG character? Wear those and the only heads that will be turning are the ones trying to cover laughs."  
  
Komachi in turn looked at me as if I was a particularly slow breed of sloth. It wasn’t an altogether unfamiliar look from her. “I’m not going to wear it _now_. I’m buying it for summer.”  
  
“Why not just buy it in summer then?” I don’t think I’d ever understand the mind of someone who likes clothes shopping. Just buy what you need, when you need it, I say. “Or even spring? It’s not like any of that stuff is on special, right?”  
  
“You just don’t get it.” She shook her head at me and dropped that outfit in the ‘probably’ pile. It was already ten outfits tall. There was only one outfit in the ‘definitely’ pile so far.  
Komachi wandered off in search of more outfits, and my eyes in turn wandered the store. The hint of blond caught my eye again, but I just focused on what I’d told myself before. Chiba. Tourists. University students.  
  
When Komachi returned she went back to testing clothes combinations above her body in front of the mirror. What was even the purpose of being near the dressing rooms if you weren’t going to use it? She held up a bright yellow sweater, and looked at me. Apparently I’d now opened the floodgates of being asked for an opinion.  
  
“Kamakura will pee on that and you won’t even notice.”  
  
She scoffed. “No, he wouldn’t. We’ve trained him better than that.”  
  
“Sure, and mum just happened to toss her brand-new dress of the same colour out for no reason last year.”  
  
Komachi put the yellow garment to the side. Praise me, sweater, I’ve saved you from an early death in a garbage bin smelling of cat pee.  
  
“How’s this one, then?” This next sweater was a deep, ugly, brown.  
  
“You’re moving up in bodily excretion.”  
  
She tossed the shitty thing at my head, but I caught it instead. I was debating throwing it back at her when I saw that her next choice was a snot green. Why was my sister so weird? Thankfully I didn’t need to say anything about that one before she threw it in the discard pile. She did the same with a much nicer green one after that.  
  
“Hey, don’t throw that one away. It looks good.” It was also the only in that pile of hers anywhere near a sensible colour.  
  
“Huh? You think so?”  
  
I tried to express just how little lack of energy I cared to expend on bullshitting about this bullshit. She seemed to understand because she broke out into a bright grin.  
  
“Ha! You’re finally getting into this, I see. I’ll get you to be a proper shopper yet!” She shook a fist in my direction, smile crinkling her eyes in joy. “This is making my Komachi points go way up.”  
I rolled my eyes as she darted off again. This time when they caught sight of a blond there was no denying I knew them. As far as I knew, there were no tourists or university students that wore the Kuoh High uniform, after all. I felt an incandescent rage begin to build within me.  
  
I ground my teeth and focused, for the moment, on the girl in front of me. She seemed happy and content as she skipped over to a nearby rack full of dresses. It hurt to realise, but she was growing up. Not too long ago she wouldn’t have been caught dead looking at something so girly.  
  
Despite my grumbling, today had been fun. Probably the most fun I’d had all week. Looking back, I realised that this had been the first time we’d spent more than a meal together in months. I added that flare of shame to the indignant anger as she stepped back over to me carrying a number of different hangers.  
  
“These ones next, I think.” She said with a bright grin. It was kind of painful to look at.  
  
“Make sure to actually use the dressing room. I need to go use the toilet.” Her smile slipped, and I hurried to fix it. “Tell me which one you like the most and I’ll buy it for your birthday.”  
  
“That’s so stingy! You’re supposed to surprise me with that kind of stuff!” Nonetheless she stepped into the dressing room.  
  
Once it was locked, I turned and marched down the aisles, looking for the asshole who just didn’t know how to leave well enough alone. I found him quickly, comparing a handful of dresses.  
  
“You’re a little too flat-chested to fit in any of those, slut.” I said as I came up behind him. …Why?! Why did I only prepare insults for the three she-Devils?! I’d only just begun the confrontation and I was already losing! He must have heard me coming, because he didn’t seem startled in the least. He was even kind enough to completely ignore that embarrassing failure! Damn you, Kiba Yuuto.  
  
“Hikigaya-san, what a coincidence!” Again, damn you, Kiba Yuuto. Just how stupid do you all think I am? My maths grades may be abhorrent but even I know enough to recognise a simple pattern.  
  
I met his eyes and simply glared. “Don’t try and peddle that bullshit to me. First Gremory, then the loli, now you. You’re not even subtle about it.” And tomorrow would no doubt be Himejima. Fantastic.  
  
He had the gall to try and act embarrassed. It was kind of impressive, how he managed to fake a blush. Some kind of Devil magic, I presume. “Well, I… that is… err…”  
  
What a joke. This was the guy that had half the girls in our year all twitterpated? I’d always thought it, watching on as he gently let girl after girl down with his ‘ _oh so_ _gentle’_ smile, but this guy was as fake as they come. That smile was as plastic as half of Hollywood’s tits. He never reacted to anything. Never talked to anyone.  
  
He was... it was like he was a window-dressing instead of a person. Something pretty on the other side of the glass.  
  
And all the besotted idiots who fawned over him? Who begged to know the perfect prince’s perfect price so they could trot him out on their arms, sparkling like his Hollywood smile?  
Hah.  
  
Even I knew if you had to ask, you couldn’t afford it.  
  
“Really though, who knew the so-called Prince was a paedophile? I’m sure the girls at school are gonna be just heartbroken to find out they’re too old for you.”  
  
Kiba’s face might have been hilarious, if I hadn’t wanted to break it so damn much.  
  
“What are you talking about!” Kiba’s voice was high-pitched and incredulous. The accusation strangling what little wit he may have had.  
  
“My sister. The thirteen-year-old I’ve caught you staring at three times now.” My voice was cold with a fury I had never felt before. I could stare the bitch who’d enslaved me in the eye with nothing more than petty annoyance. But this guy? This guy I wanted nothing more than to see writhing in the fires of the hell he came from. I raised my hand to near my chest, “About this tall? Still flat as a board? Wandering around the store in her training bra?”  
  
“Th-that’s—I wasn’t—I mean, I didn’t—…”  
  
"Too dumb to come up with an excuse? Sorry, even middle schoolers have higher standards than that."  
  
“What are you— why are you—”  
  
“You’re sick. Creepy. Disgusting. Get the hell away from me and my sister. And tell Himejima she can find me at Chiba Station’s Starbucks tomorrow at 10.” I hope this isn’t a repeating pattern.  
  
“Ah… that’s… she has work at the Inari Shrine in the morning…”  
  
“Oh of course. How presumptuous of me. We wouldn’t want to inconvenience her in inconveniencing me, now.” That would be giving me what I want after all. Something you lot are obviously impervious to doing. “Fine. Whatever. Piss off already.”  
  
He spun with all the fluidity of a dancer, and all but ran out of the store. Until the moment he left my eyes I glared at his back, imagining rusty iron dagger after serrated steel blade piercing into it. He flinched with every wound, my mind’s eye overlapping with reality. I could feel my blood rushing, the air warm around me as I poured every bit of impotent irritation into the back of a boy I wanted nothing more than to see cower in pain before me.  
  
With the irritant successfully driven away, I returned to my impatiently waiting sister. She had, finally, put all her clothes on. In her arms was a pile of clothes, her chosen dress on top for me to pick up and carry to the counter myself.  
  
It was a good thing New Years was right around the corner. This one dress was going to completely wipe out my wallet. How the hell did Komachi manage to pay for all of her clothes… wait, did she just pick the most expensive dress because I said I’d buy it?  
  
I wouldn’t put it past her.  
  
There was a flash of green in the corner of my eye that caught my attention, but when I turned to see what it was all I saw was the cashier stuffing the last thing into Komachi’s bag. My sister had a brilliant smile on her face, and I couldn’t bring myself to remove it with my accusation just yet.  
  
Ah. That was high in Hachiman points.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Was told to cross-post this over to here, so I've done so. If you have any suggestions for request Hachiman might undertake as a Devil, feel free to give them.
> 
> Next chapter is plotted and started. Have exams for the next three weeks though, so probably don't expect an update before the end of June.


	4. Chapter 4

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Happy New Years!
> 
> ...I wrote over a month ago, when this chapter was sent off to be edited. Sadly my dear editing monkeys— I mean, my dear friends who willingly take time to edit my crap were both too busy to actually do much to this.
> 
> It probably would have languished waiting for editing to finish eventually but someone on Ao3 had the sheer gall to assume this fic is abandoned. So I decided to just release this now and edit later. Maybe.
> 
> If you don’t know what a Katahajime suplex is, there’s a link to one in the notes at the end. No, I’m not going to tell you why you might want to know what it is. Just read and find out.

“Isn’t Sunday meant to be God’s day of rest or something?” My tired voice rang loud through the chilled air. Normally, I was against disturbing the peace, but Devils don’t deserve any. Besides, Himejima’s flinch was more than worth it. “Shouldn’t you be out kicking puppies and stealing little kids’ souls while He isn’t watching?”  
  
For a split second, I saw the real Himejima. Hey, I know I look dead but you don’t have to look at me like I’m a zombie. I won’t be transforming into a magical girl either. Too bad that glimpse only lasted a second.  
  
“Oh my, Hachiman! This place is rather out of your way, isn’t it?” Kuoh’s Inari Shrine was a quaint, if obnoxiously red, building occupying its own isolated space in Kuoh City. It was nestled within the skeletal grasp of a tightly packed boundary of deciduous trees, so it was easy to forget that the train line was barely a hundred metres behind it. “You only had a small taste, but was four days simply too long for you? To go to such desperate lengths chasing the sweet scent of a beautiful girl… ah, you must have been so terribly deprived. Don’t worry, honourable worshipper, this Himejima Akeno is here to be of service.”  
  
For a moment, I saw a different face framed by raven locks. Sharper cheeks. Eyes glinting more with malice than mischief.  
  
I tried to ignore the sickening sensations invoked by her sweet, yet sultry, grin. Instead I focused on the way she bounced over to where I was standing beneath the torii at the top of the stairs. They weren’t steep by any means, so it wasn’t lack of energy that kept me from approaching closer, so much as lack of desire.  
  
“Hell no. If I wanted to smell a pretty girl, I’d just stay home with my sister.” Something in my words must have struck a chord because her bouncing lasted only a moment more as she ground to a halt. A rictus of disgusted realisation marred her beguiling face. Seriously, how much are you guys stalking me to already understand the depths of my brotherly love. I thought I was pretty good at keeping that under wraps.  
  
Whatever. It was annoying, but given Kiba’s actions yesterday, I had resigned myself overnight to the idea that they might hold my sister against me. There was no need to hide my depths of love for Komachi, really. That was kind of a relief. Pretending would have been way too difficult in the first place. No one loves their little sister more than me, after all.  
  
No not like that. That’s disgusting.  
  
“To answer your question, I find kicking puppies rather too easy. They’re bred to keep coming back for more no matter how much you hurt them.” Her tone was light, and her face moved from disgusted to lascivious. Strange, I was used to the opposite. “Now, innocent boys on the other hand… there’s a much more delicious challenge in keeping them on a leash, don’t you think?”  
  
“I notice you forgot to mention a lack of soul stealing, there.” I was not going to let on how much her words affected me. I’d had a fantasy of chains the first day we met, and I’d rather not mention that the same fantasy had kept me awake every night hence. I wasn’t a masochist, nor was I into bondage. No matter how familiar such a scene seemed to be.  
  
“The sale of souls in the underworld was outlawed by the Four Great Satans following the war that saw the deaths of their predecessors.” What? Every new thing I learned about Devils just made me more and more sure I wanted nothing to do with them. “The act of making such a deal in good faith with a _consenting adult_ would be a sure-fire way for any Devil to find themselves in front of Lord Lucifer pending an execution, let alone stealing from a child.”  
  
Well. That’s a thing. So Lucifer cared for human souls. Alternatively, human souls were what this lot of Satans had used to seize power after the last ones bit the dust. Yeah, that made a lot more sense.  
  
“So you don’t do it because you’d die if you did. Makes sense.” Nothing like a good old fashioned dictatorship to prove to the humans you force into slavery that everything is on the up and up. Sure did inspire a lot of faith that the only reason you weren’t making more slaves was because the head honcho would kill you for trying to usurp him.  
  
“No. We don’t do it because there is simply no need. Souls are an inefficient resource at the end of the day.” And there’s the propaganda. You don’t need souls for power. They’re inefficient. We definitely aren’t running a soul harvester behind our thrones made of baby skulls, what are you talking about? “Besides, why steal someone’s soul when you can steal their virginity instead? Humans are so very sentimental about that sort of thing, are they not?”  
  
“Sure, I can see that. Put a girl willing to sleep with a desperate loser in front of one, and he’ll sign his whole life away for the cause.”  
  
“Is that so?” Himejima all but purred as she stalked her way toward me. Her fingers, long and sinuous yet soft and silky stroked down the side of my face. “Is that your way of saying you’ll be happy to serve me, if I just let you,” she licked her lips, “touch me, Hachiman?”  
  
I did not shiver. I did not. Oh hi, libido. You make a good point on why to listen to her, but I’m afraid I need you to go back to being buried deep down alongside self respect and my belief in love. Dumbass feelings. Her hand was really warm, too. Seriously, it was making me sweat.  
  
I flinched, slapping her hand away when it tried to follow my face and taking a couple paces back towards the stairs. “I may be a loser, but I’m not desperate for some loose Devil. After all the blood orgies you’ve had I’d probably catch something.”  
  
If my barbs had any effect she showed no sign of it. Instead she gave me a beatific smile—the light of the morning sun cast her perfectly angular face into sharp relief, violet eyes gleaming. She crossed one arm beneath her chest, threatening the already tight container of her priestess clothes to burst, with the other angled upwards, palm cupping her chin as she watched me with unveiled amusement.  
  
“Hmm, if it wasn’t my body or smell that drew you here, perhaps it was my magic? Do you have so much trouble concentrating without me around that you need to conjure my image? Normally I’d charge you, knowing what you’ll get up to with it, but as a favor, I’ll be happy to teach you for free, just this once.”  
  
“The last thing I want to see is you, you damn witch! I’m here for—wait, I can use magic?! How the hell does that work?” Magic? Seriously?! Hey, was I actually a zombie?!  
  
“Of course. You are a Devil. Magic is now in your nature. With every breath your lungs are permeated with mana. With every step the world trembles as you force it to release more. As a Bishop of Rias Gremory, this is all the more true. Your very being is inclined towards the spiritual arts, your every desire an imposition the world must bow before and heed.”  
  
Of course, my master was not Eucliwood. Just a chuuni. I thought her servants were somewhat better, but apparently not. Why was my life like this? I would’ve been more than happy to have just bled out instead of dealing with this crap.  
  
“Uh-huh. Right. Did you take a creative writing class in Hell, or did that all come naturally, Chuunijima?”  
  
Ah, there she was again. A sharp twitch of the lips, an eyeroll aborted almost before I caught it. Careful now, Himejima, you were nearly a real person for a second there! What do you mean, I’m saying people are only real when they despise me? “Oh, you flatter me, Hachiman! I just took a few lessons from the Master Fencer General Zaimokuza-dono. Isn’t it wonderful, all the things we have in common?”  
  
Oh great, not only was she a chuuni, she was friends with Zaimokuza of all people. Being a loner, when forced to pair up with people in gym class I had been stuck with a student who thought personal hygiene was optional. Said fatass had made it a habit of his to regale me with his latest delusions, and had been trying to drag me into it. I was not the Bodhisattva Hachiman, nor was I the Eternally Absent God with No Name. Tell me who told you these lies, so I can add them to my Death Note.  
  
“If you’re buying what Zaimokuza is selling, boy, have I got a pyramid scheme right up your alley.”  
  
Himejima chuckled. It was a dangerous sound, low and rich and trembling through my ribs. I clenched my fist and didn’t quite know why. “Don’t be silly, Hachiman. Do you really think a girl like me ever has to _buy_ anything? I just have to lean over a little and smile and… well, I’d go on, but you seem awfully hot under the collar. Would you like a drink? Thirst kills, you know.”  
  
My knuckles turned white as I dug fingernails into my palm. I could hear my heartbeat in my ears as the world narrowed around me, and that sick feeling returned to my stomach. “I’m sure you’d know all about that, now, wouldn’t you? Just how many dehydrated corpses have you left lying in the depths of Shinjuku after ‘dates?’”  
  
“Oh my, Hachiman,” Himejima said, pressing a terribly exaggerated hand to her terribly exaggerated chest, “while I’m not surprised that your thoughts immediately turn to women of the night, I must ruin your fantasy: there’s only one vampire in Kuoh, and he hasn’t left his room in almost a year! Try not to be too jealous of the allowances we provide.”  
  
Vampires were real too. Okay. Sure. Whatever. Next you’ll be telling me there’s a god of breasts lurking in a parallel dimension. More importantly, he managed to stay in his room for a whole year?! Hey, are you guys looking after him properly? Is he getting three square meals a day? If so, maybe being a slave isn’t too bad after all.  
  
Who am I kidding, you guys probably keep him wrapped in chains and emaciated until he tastes the fresh blood of an English girl running from her uncle.  
  
“Don’t flatter yourself too much. The only reason anyone fantasises over you is ‘cause they can’t see the bitch hiding behind your udders.” Or they were just a massive masochist.  
  
“First a dog, and now a cow.” Himejima tapped a slender finger against her jaw, a strangely familiar tic. “Is there something you’d like to tell me about your preferences, Hachiman?”  
  
I could feel my face burn in response, and grasped desperately for anything I could come back with. “I know you think the sun shines out your ass, but it’s a bit too much to think everyone is like you, Himejima.”  
  
Her smug grin was insufferable. That was weak, and we both knew it.  
  
“I’m flattered that you’ve spent so much time considering my… radiance,” she said, cocking her hip in a way that I absolutely did not have to shift my eyes away from. Anyone who tells you otherwise is a liar. Especially Himejima. “But I merely wanted to help, honourable worshipper! We _are_ Devils, you know—I’m sure I could find someone familiar with any sort of sin, if that’s what it will take to help you fit into society.”  
  
She wasn’t a dog, or a cow. She was a shark, smelling blood in the water and prowling closer, inch by inch. As I racked my brain for a response that would punch her in the gills, her shadow crossed mine, and her scent, muted by cleansing rituals, filled my nose. “Familiar with any kind of sin? Isn’t that just you?”  
  
“Well, since you’re _asking_ , dear Hachiman,” Himejima sai—what the?! Since when was she standing right in front of me?! I could feel the imminent pressure of certain pressures about to pressure me into the floor! Too close! I stumbled back a step, my heart slamming sickeningly fast. My throat hurt like it was hard to breathe. _Black hair a silken shadow brushing against my cheeks, a smile as wicked as the fingertips crawling up my che—_ “Should I take it that you’d like a demonstration?”  
  
All that she was, was all that I could see. Her breath on my face chilled the flames she had cast upon it. Sharks are way too dangerous. I’m never going to the beach again. “A-anyway, about why I—why I came here t-to talk to you…”  
  
She smiled indulgently, stepping even closer. _Soft_.  
  
“Oh, of course we can talk,” Himejima said. Her voice was a hot weight in my stomach. “The way men and women so often do, when they’re alone together beneath the blessing of Lord Inari. My, my, you’ve surprised me. I hadn’t expected you to be so romantic. Your boldness is truly… impressive.”  
  
She licked her lips and I flinched away from it.  
  
“Y-y’know what? N-nevermind!” By now I’d been backed almost all the way to the steps, the torii looming above us both blazing in the morning sun. “I’ll just let you get back to work, how’s that sound? Good? Yeah, sounds good to me too.”  
  
I turned and fled down the stairs, the chimes of her laughter following my advance towards future victories. “Bye bye, Hachiman! I’ll see you soon, okay?!”  
  
A hundred years would still be way too soon.  
  


* * *

  
There are three facts of life that anyone with half a brain cell knows:  
  
Himejima Akeno had a smile that could launch a thousand ships.  
  
Hikigaya Hachiman’s ship was lying at the bottom of the Aegean Sea.  
  
When given a gift horse you return to sender, lest you give the enemy lurking inside the chance to slip through your walls and destroy you from the inside.  
  
Of those, the last point was the most important to remember. Himejima’s beauty was undeniable, and as a pathetically desperate creature, it was easy for me to be blinded by this to the point of ignoring the very salient reasons why she was a foul blight on this earth that deserved nothing but my scorn.  
  
The day I fall prey to her seduction is the day Hikigaya Hachiman the human is no more. All that will be left is a slave, bent to the will of demonic masters who won’t even give him a decent living wage. If I wanted to toil my life away for nothing but the praise of idiots who believe that’s reward enough, I would have tried my hand at being an artist.  
  
Such were the thoughts I ruminated on as I let my feet lead me, fleeing the site of my failure to withstand Himejima’s… Himejima-ness. Maybe if I stared at the black tar beneath me and wished hard enough, it would open up and swallow me whole.  
  
Today was a mistake, planned and executed in a fit of enraged hubris while chewing out a shitty pervert. Seeing that pervert flounder in the face of my approach had given me misguided hope that by confronting the Devils head on, I could get them to back off. I’d even told Komachi I wouldn’t be back until evening, expecting to spend the day forcing my opinions on Gremory and her so-called ‘peerage.’ Mostly of the ‘leave me the hell alone,’ variety.  
  
By the way, I looked up what a peerage actually was. Noble peers, claiming hereditary roles (or rarely meritocratically bestowed) from a variety of states unified as equals. That was far and away from taking people, making them your servant ranked by chess pieces, and then sharing a bit of your land with them so that you didn’t seem like a total villain.  
  
News flash: you still totally do.  
  
Sighing, I raised my head to get a sense of where I was, only to come face to face with the closed gates of Kuoh Academy. Left on autopilot within Kuoh City as I was, it was only natural for me to gravitate to the only reason I would normally come here.  
  
Some say schools look different when there’s no one there. More foreboding, somehow. To me the school still looked like a school. Well, I suppose that’s not really true; it never looked like a school in the first place.  
  
With its sweeping courtyard, complete with marble statues, ridiculously large fountain, too long driveway for all the limos, and sprawling expanse of grass and gardens, it was more like a Western mansion you’d expect Hollywood stars to be living in. Which shouldn’t come as a shock, considering that prior to last year it has been an all-girls school dedicated to aiding rich girls learn how to be rich women.  
  
Even after opening its doors to the opposite gender in what I can only assume was an effort to appease some sponsor or another, girls still made up 85% of the student body. With good reason. Their sports programs and teams sucked so badly that there was no hope of a scholarship, and the entrance exam was so brutal I’d seen one guy punch himself in the groin during a break for an excuse to leave. The only guys who wanted to attend were the rich and well educated. Or the desperate.  
  
Loud noises spilled from the suddenly opened entrance. Feminine voices, tinged in resigned outrage, hurled abuses towards a trio of boys being frog marched towards the gate by the hulking behemoths that made up the school’s security personnel. Speaking of desperate...  
  
Kuoh Academy’s “Perverted Trio,” a triangle of the most ill-begotten, malformed, pathetic pieces of trash to ever have plagued Japan with their existence. All three were first years, and all three were somehow still enrolled despite being caught numerous times in the act of sexual harassment. It certainly wasn’t their grades that were keeping them around—they’d been caught bragging about how they made sure to fail so they could be around in the holidays taking re-tests to harass the girls’ sports clubs.  
  
As they all but skipped beneath the gaze of security and the glares of half the female student body—both middle and high school—they made me look like a veritable saint.  
  
Maybe I should start my own church?  
  
The Church for Guys Who Like Girls, But Aren't as Bad as Those Three.  
  
Give me a year, and I'll be a Japanese institution. Otaku everywhere will praise my name after I unite them under a banner of prosperity.  
  
Nah... that sounds like way too much effort. They still can't choose between Rei and Asuka.  
  
I don't want to waste my time drilling into their heads that the real answer is Misato.  
  
By the time security reached the gate, the girls had exhausted themselves of any intelligible abuse, and had returned to their clubrooms. Probably to go suck back the sobs that their basic rights as humans were being violated on the daily, and society didn’t give a damn.  
  
I caught the eye of the trio’s leader, Hyoudou Issei, as they were pushed through the gate, and levelled him with a glare full of all the disgust and spite I could manage. He was a rather average looking boy who envisioned himself as some kind of eroge protagonist. The only thing I could give him credit for is that he’d styled his hair somewhat sensibly; if he’d had hair dangling past his eyes, no one would have been surprised.  
  
Somehow this walking example of everything wrong with Japan had friends, too. How was that fair? If Devils exist then God must exist too, but he’s obviously not paying very close attention for this kind of injustice to be allowed.  
  
His two bookends were duller, uglier, and according to rumour, even more perverted than their self-proclaimed “Future Harem King” leader.  
  
I’d been adamant that Komachi not even think about transferring schools as soon as I’d heard of these three, and every new story of increasing degeneracy made me happier my parents had backed me up for once.  
  
Even if that was only because they thought I would drag Komachi’s reputation down and ruin any prospects she had of getting into a good university.  
  
In the face of my disgust, Hyoudou didn’t even try to look ashamed. He simply grinned at me, before turning to Ugly 1 and Moron A and loudly proclaiming a desire to go look at some porn mags he’d bought the other day.  
  
Please, I bet you’d had to pay the university student smoking outside the convenience store to get those for you. You might like to pretend you’re an ero-video protagonist, but everyone knows that in front of a real woman you’d be worse than the protagonist of a harem manga that got cancelled out of Monthly Shounen Ace.  
  
Actually, that's giving you too much credit! You wouldn't even belong to a series sold at Comiket!  
  
Watching them prance away, unrepentant about their crimes, gleeful about the fact that society lets perverts escape justice with a slap on the wrist, Himejima’s words about magic floated back into my head.  
  
 _‘...your every desire an imposition the world must bow before and heed.’_  
  
Right then, I wanted Chuunijima to have been telling the truth. I wanted the world to heed my request, and force Hyoudou to feel what his victims felt. To be stripped and humiliated before the perversion of someone who didn’t care. To be exposed as the creep he was, and feel the stare of unwanted attention burning into his back with every moment. I wanted him scared and embarrassed, traumatised that at any moment the monster who made him feel that way will come back and make him feel that way again.  
  
I locked my gaze on the back of his head, as I felt my own begin to pound with the blood rushing through it. A storm was brewing in the air, unfallen snow hanging heavy in the clouds above. A little more, if I desired just a _little more…_  
  
A cough from behind me startled me out of my glaring. Hyoudou was long gone, and I’d been standing staring murder into nothingness for who knows how long.  
  
I could feel the heat rushing to my face.  
  
I needed to see what the coughing person wanted, and then run home and bury my head beneath my blankets in shame.  
  
“Are you a student of this school?” The person, a woman by her voice, asked.  
  
Turning to look at her, all I could think at first was ‘big.’  
  
She was tall, much taller than me or anyone I’d ever known. She was dressed in an expensive-looking, though horribly creased, burgundy suit, an impressively ruffled white blouse, and tights with some unfortunate laddering. Exhaustion radiated from her every pore. There were bags beneath her bloodshot green eyes. Her face had an almost deathly pallor, and she swayed lightly on heeled feet.  
  
She was also bustier than anyone I’d ever known. A fact she seemed well aware of as she snapped her fingers in front of my distracted eyes, drawing them back to her own, tired, yet twinkling with humour.  
  
Taking a moment to remember what she’d asked me (and how to talk properly), I responded. “Yes. Hikigaya Hachiman, first year, class F. How can I help you, ma’am?”  
  
“Polite, aren’t you? When you’re not staring at least.” My increasing flush only served to amuse her more it seemed, because she let out a small chuckle. “My name is Doroteya Sokolova. You can just call me Div, though. My daughter is hoping to attend this academy’s middle school in the coming year, and I was being shown around before that bit of unpleasantness earlier. Do you mind if I ask you a couple of questions about your experience?”  
  
For a foreigner, her Japanese was impeccable. I couldn’t hear a trace of an accent. “Not at all. Please, ask me anything you’d like to know.”  
  
She chuckled again, lower and more sultry. “Such a sweet child you are. I almost wish you were my own.” For the third time in as many sentences my face darkened with blood. Himejima could take lessons from this woman. “Let’s start with those three that had you glaring into space for five minutes—who are they?”  
  
Damn, I was rather hoping we could have just moved straight past them and any embarrassing actions linked to them. Still, I gave a quick summation.  
  
“I see.” Div made a thoughtful noise. “My daughter... how likely is it, do you think, that she would be harassed if she came here?”  
  
“As far as I know, they generally try to stick to the high school girls. But,” I clenched my hands and tried not to grind my teeth. “As you saw, there are still days where even the middle school girls get caught up in things.”  
  
Div made another one of those hums of thought. “You seem to be taking their actions rather… personally. Just a concerned citizen, or did they target someone close to you?”  
  
I had to hold back a rather inappropriate laugh. The only girl close enough to me that they could have targeted was a psycho who tried to kill me. Them trying to perv on her would have been a sight to behold. “Not really. I have a little sister of my own who’s in middle school. The thought of creeps like them being around her just… It’s bad enough trying to forget what might happen to her on buses and trains. She doesn’t deserve that in school too.”  
  
Div sighed. “Yes, it’s quite the unfortunate state of things that many women have to live with in this country. They had to sit us down and explain at length what ‘chikan’ is and how we would almost certainly experience it before coming here for the JET programme, you know. I’ve heard horror stories from some of my fellow expats.  
  
“Anyway! I don’t need to burden you with our grown up issues. You’re a very good brother. I hope your sister appreciates that.” I tried not to let the warm sensation her words gave me show too much, but the knowing smirk she shot me indicated that was in vain. “Follow up question! As I understand it, Mr. Yukinoshita’s youngest daughter attends this school, is that correct?”  
  
In Kuoh Academy, “Yukinoshita” could only refer to one person. Where Himejima and Gremory were famous for their looks and abilities, Yukinoshita Yukino could only be said to be infamous for hers. She was a member of Class J—an accelerated class dedicated to those students with an international focus— and was said to be a divine presence within the school. Top of the year in every course coupled with a ice-cold, standoffish demeanour that had allegedly rebuffed the efforts of Gremory, Himejima, and even the current student body president Shitori Souna within the first week alone.  
  
She was also the daughter of a local politician, which explained Div’s overall bedraggled state. She must be a translator working at the municipal office, the poor fool. That’s what you get for trying to master Japanese as a foreigner: long thankless hours in an underpaid position that will end in a couple years when you’re replaced and sent back to your own country with barely any savings.  
  
Not that working in Japan as a Japanese was any better. Longer hours, an expectation to use formal language, caring for your boss after he dragged you out to a drinking party his body couldn’t handle, and the only freedom you’d ever achieve was in the afterlife when you were expected to work so often you made video game crunch look like a holiday.  
  
Work and you lose to the system.  
  
Become a devil and be a slave.  
  
My future was pretty bleak, huh?  
  
“Yeah, I know of her. Can’t say I’ve ever met her though; so I can’t help you anymore than that,” I replied.  
  
“She’s a bit of a recluse, huh?” She seemed to think about that for a moment before smiling. “That’s fine, then. I suppose my daughter won’t be interacting much with high schoolers anyway.  
  
“Your Russian is amazing by the way. I didn’t even know they taught it here! Do you enjoy your class?”  
  
Russian? What the hell was she talking about? We were speaking in Japanese!  
  
My confusion must have shown on my face, because she let out yet another laugh. It wasn’t a short one, either. For the first time, I noticed how very mocking her tone was.  
  
“Oh, but of course they didn’t. Why, you must just have a gift for tongues. Rei-chan will be terribly dismayed to hear of it!”  
  
What the hell...? What kind of drugs was this lady on? Or did I somehow fall down a rabbit hole mid-conversation?  
  
And who the hell was Rei-ch—  
  
My head felt as though it had been dumped in lava.  
  
My vision went dark, my ears rang, and I could taste copper in my mouth.  
  
A second later the world was back to normal.  
  
Except instead of standing in front of the school gates with a bedraggled office lady, I was alone, lying on my back on the grass inside.  
  
I sighed and stood up.  
  
Whatever just happened, I was better off pretending it never did.  
  
I needed to go do something fun, otherwise I was going to go even crazier.  
  


* * *

  
Of course, expecting the day to become normal after the events of that morning would have been asking too much of the world.  
  
Abandon hope, ye who bears the name Hachiman, for you are cursed to live a life of inconvenience and suffering.  
  
It was a lesson that no matter how many times I thought I’d learned, I kept forgetting why and began hoping again.  
  
“Hikigaya! What a coincidence, I was just thinking of you!”  
  
After a morning of being flustered, flummoxed and flagellated by busty women older than me, all I had wanted was to get a quick meal before retreating far from anywhere anyone could know me and into a den of debauchery.  
  
Otherwise known as an internet cafe with unrestricted wifi.  
  
Sadly, I was thwarted from my desire to conduct research on the plot of Highschool of the Dead by the newest (and oldest) bane of my highschool life.  
  
“Hiratsuka-sensei…” I said tentatively, searching for a way to escape the third woman of her kind that day. If you ladies kept getting in the way of my peaceful life I was liable to start thinking flat is justice, you know. What kind of person would that make you, to turn an innocent young boy into that kind of monster.  
  
It shouldn’t have come across as such a surprise to run into her, really. In order to afford entertainment for the rest of the day, I’d had to forego the cost of convenience of being able to take a train all the way from Kuoh into Chiba proper and instead walk to the next station.  
  
Never underestimate how far an extra 200 yen will take you!  
  
Kaihinmakuhari Station was at the centre of Mihama Ward’s modern urban sprawl. With Kuoh being almost exclusively the domain of the excessively rich or their civil servants, it would only make sense for a teacher to live in the next Ward over.  
  
With lunchtime well upon Japan by the time I arrived, the chances of running into one of said teachers there were more positive than negative.  
  
Unfortunately calculating chances is something that I failed last semester.  
  
“See, someone I was just talking to said I was too passionate about my job as a teacher. But thinking of those rotten eyes of yours was all I needed to know that he was wrong.” She was louder than usual, with an odd hitch in her voice. You tried to be vague at the start, but you gave it up pretty quick that this is some kind of guy issue huh? Why are you venting to me?  
  
It’s not like I’d ever been in a real relationship.  
  
I ignored the vague churning in my gut.  
  
“You do such a good job too, sensei.” Maybe if I tried a little brown-nosing, she’d let me slip away and not drag me into her own issues. You’re meant to be fixing mine, damn it! Not that you’ve been very helpful in that regard. “If you’ll excuse me…”  
  
“I know right?!” Slinging her arm around my shoulder in what I’m sure was meant to be a show of camaraderie—but which really reeked of a desperate clinging for support—she cut off my avenue of escape. Damn you, woman! “Speaking of those rotten eyes of yours, it hasn’t even been a week and they’re more rotten than ever!”  
  
“A-ah, well, y’know…” Who would have guessed dealing with Devils made you more rotten. It's almost like that’s the core tenet of a major religion or something. If you wanna complain about them, complain about you feeding me to them yourself, first! “Anyway, you’re uhh… looking really nice today sensei! I’m sure your date must be really happy. I wouldn’t want him to get the wrong idea if he saw us like this.”  
  
So get your arm off me already!  
  
Oh.  
  
Oh _dammit_.  
  
Way to go Hachiman. That’s definitely how you escape from a clingy teacher. Hit on them and remind them of their already present guy problems. No wonder Naoko-chan looked at you like a gross bug when you tried cheering her up that one time.  
  
No wait, maybe that was because I knew her name and problems in the first place.  
  
“Hahaha!” Sensei let out a much too loud and oddly pitched laugh to be real. Right in my ear. Ouch. “What are you talking about, Hikigaya?! That’s hilarious! As if I would be spending my limited time off on a date with some loser who begged off spending Christmas together!  
  
“I certainly wouldn’t be wasting my life with someone who’s threatened by me spending my time with kids!”  
  
Ah, so she’d been dumped, and the guy had blamed her passion as a teacher as the excuse to do it. The bastard.  
  
Sensei was an attractive woman with a steady job, a great reputation, and an agreeable personality! Since she was a teacher, she didn’t even have to partake in weekly drinking parties with all the guys in the office. As someone aspiring to be a house-husband, she was almost the perfect woman!  
  
The arm tightening around my neck was one of the only reasons she wasn’t.  
  
“That bastard, I just wanna be like Koro-sensei! Is that so bad?!”  
  
“No, but some guys aren’t attracted to women more obsessed with shounen comics than they are.” Also, Koro-sensei was a monster making kids into killers. If that’s where your passion lies, please count me out.  
  
Sensei’s eyes narrowed into a glare. “Why you… where’s your respect for your elders?! Just for that, you’re coming to lunch with me!”  
  
Why did I have to be the poor idiot she focused her passions on?  
  


* * *

  
Yarou Ramen was decently tasty, if a tad bit too expensive. I’d certainly never come here under my own power and money.  
  
Thankfully(?), I had been frogmarched here by my guidance counsellor and modern Japanese language teacher claiming that “as the adult [she] should pay.”  
  
Which is obvious. But as an adult you also shouldn’t be forcing a teenage boy to accompany you, you know?  
  
Or if you’re going to do that, I demand much more than just a single meal.  
  
I hear the going rate for compensated dating is about ten thousand yen an hour. But I’m way more special than those gyaru sluts, so pay me twenty thousand.  
  
By the way, your rant about how doomed Japan is to its aging population and that all guys wanted was your money, beauty and your house has been going for half an hour sensei. That’ll be thirty thousand yen.  
  
I agree, Japan is a horribly sexist country and men are little better than pigs. This is why I’ll accept any woman who wants to marry me and support them as they chase their dreams. I only ask that they let me stay at home and keep everything in order for them.  
  
We won’t have kids because I don’t want to look after them, and they’ll be too busy.  
  
Also, you now owe me forty thousand yen, sensei.  
  
I thought of such things as orders were placed, seats taken, and finally food delivered to us. At last, Hiratsuka-sensei finished her argument to no-one who cared about the patriarchy and levelled me with a searching look.  
  
Whatever you’re looking for you won’t find it, sensei. I’m a hideously shallow being with no hidden depths. All that looking deep into my rotten eyes will get you is a need to have a shower.  
  
“So, Hikigaya. I’ve heard you’ve been acting like a brat.” Who told you those lies?  
  
All I’ve done is slam a door in someone’s face, ignore my sister’s guest, insult someone who did better than me in games, insult someone I ran into at the store, and show up at someone’s place of work to pick a fight.  
  
I was totally innocent of any wrong-doings.  
  
“The only people acting like brats are the ones unilaterally forcing themselves into places they’re not wanted.”  
  
If they didn’t want to be rejected they should have just not tried to interact with me. 100% of people I had encountered had at some point later made it clear I was unwanted. Personally I think it’s better to make it clear right from the start that I want nothing to do with you instead of letting you think I care.  
  
Sadly, it seemed she took little heed of my personal boundaries on people interfering with my life. Which should’ve been obvious, she hadn’t cared about them when she forced Devils and herself on me. Nonetheless, her gimlet stare struck me through the steam of our bowls of ramen.  
  
Speaking of which, it was better to focus on said food before it got cold.  
  
The breaking of chopsticks all but echoed amongst the silence of our table.  
  
The steady slurping of our miso soaked noodles was eventually broken by sensei getting impatient.  
  
“Look,” she said after a lengthy sigh. “I get it. Don’t look at me like that, I do. You’re hardly the first human to get made into a Devil without really asking first. Hell, you’re not even the first reincarnate within that Peerage.”  
  
Wow. I can’t believe I have the honour of being among such a prized group of individuals. We’re so special that instead of just lies, trickery and reliance upon the greed of humans to outweigh any rational thought, they instead just forced us.  
  
Truly, it was the difference between yobai and rape.  
  
But more importantly than that, the question that I’d been ignoring for the past week arose; just who exactly was Hiratsuka Shizuka. No, more than that...  
  
“What the hell even _are_ you, Sensei.” I made sure to drawl her title in as sarcastic a manner as I could. Which, to give myself much due credit, was quite a bit. Sensei agreed if the unimpressed look she levelled on me once again was any indication.  
  
“Human,” she replied. I didn’t bother trying to hold my snort of disbelief in, and in turn she didn’t bother to hide the roll of her eyes. Wasn’t honestly displaying your ridicule so much better than pretending to act like you care? “Specifically, I’m a human magician, contracted to a devil obsessed with magical girls.”  
  
There was a lot to unpack in that one sentence, but I’d ignore the creeping dread of some fat otaku devil existing and instead focus on the existence of human magicians and contracts.  
  
“Humans can use magic if they contract with Devils?” I asked. Sensei’s unimpressed look gained an extra level in [Ridicule]. It now carried a 5% chance of causing an [Embarrassment] debuff on teenage boys.  
  
“You haven’t even _tried_ listening to those guys have you? And here I thought your brain was at least somewhat functional.” There was a not-insignificant tinge of anger to her tone as she waved a hand impatiently in front of me, cutting off any rebuttal I could have made. “No. Shut up. Don’t try to be cute. Eat your ramen and listen. This is the basics of the basics, and something you’d damn well know by now if you cared about more than your own pity party. Maybe something I say here will help you to not end up dead. _Again_.”  
  
I did as she bade, putting my chopsticks back to use. Not because she had a point, but because I didn’t want it to get cold. My beef strips were already getting a bit too mushy, I idly noticed.  
  
“Now then, let’s start with human magicians: Humans have always had their ways of using magic, right from the time we came into being. But it was rudimentary, taking a lot of effort for insufficient rewards. Then Merlin, half-Devil that he was, came along and uprooted basically all of it. He was able to take the magic of his kind and mirror it through maths. Instead of just wishing really hard and the world obeying whatever he imagined, Merlin was able to prove the existence of magic and in doing so forced the laws of nature to obey. Thus, any human magician you meet is going to be overwhelmingly smart and able to play with very complex mathematical formulae off the top of their head. This is one area where being a Devil is a good thing for you, because you suck at maths and excel at living in a fantasy land.  
  
“At the end of the day though, human magic is still only a mirror of Devil magic, and still requires a lot of energy to reap lesser rewards. So, in order to grow in strength as magicians, any would-be practitioner inevitably makes a contract with a Devil. They provide us with magic, and we… well, let’s just say we do them favours when they ask. No matter how shameful.”  
  
The idea of Sensei doing ‘favours’ for someone passed through my head, and I had to use all my strength to keep a perverse grin off my face. Then the reality of such a scenario came to me and I felt my pity rise even as my respect fell. I really don’t think power is worth debasing yourself like that, Sensei. I thought you were supposed to be a good role model?  
  
Beyond that though, as I sat my chopsticks above my empty bowl, I reflected on what she’d said about Devil magic.  
  
It certainly made the chuuni crap Himejima had been spouting that morning make a bit more sense (even if it was still chuuni as all hell). Devils could use magic just through wishing hard enough and imagining it happening. I was sure there was more to it, but for the moment just that was more than enough to let me start experimenting with it.  
  
Maybe if I wished hard enough, I could erase everyone who was annoying me and go back to dreaming of being a house-husband. Hell, if wishing hard enough was all I needed then that dream was well within my grasp! All I’d need to do was—  
  
Sensei’s fingers snapping in front of my face cut whatever dumb idea I’d had short. She really was a rude woman—I might have just discovered the way to world peace, you know? My world was the only world that mattered, right?  
  
“Like I said, this is just one part of the basics. Hikigaya, I need you to listen to me right now. The world you’ve joined is dangerous. You weren’t even involved in it when you barely avoided death a week ago. You might not like Gremory-san’s Peerage, but you need to trust them, and you need to hear them out. At least until you understand just how the world of the supernatural works, and how that affects you.  
  
“If they’d wanted you hurt, they wouldn’t have revived you. If they’d wanted something from you, they’d have taken it. You’re weak, after all.”  
  
She was right, I didn’t like Gremory’s peerage. But she was losing her mind if she thought I’d ever give them even an inkling of trust. It was alright for her, she’d already thrown her lot in with them for power.  
  
But I didn’t need that.  
  
Didn’t want it either.  
  
They could go back to hell, I could go back to my life, and everyone would be happy and no one would be hurt.  
  
Anyway, I was done with being nagged at for one day, and done with my food too. So I brought the conversation to a close as I got up from my seat.  
  
“Thanks for the tip, Sensei. I’ll think about it.”  
  
Hikigaya Hachiman lied as naturally as he breathed.  
  


* * *

  
With an extra 1500 yen in my wallet, courtesy of a free lunch, I made my way out of the monorail station at Yoshikawakoen. My personal internet cafe of choice, Takarajima 24, was but a short walk away and I’d be able to enjoy an extra hour of carefree browsing than I had expected to.  
  
The day had been long, and I had gone three from three on bad conversations with people, so I was more than ready to switch my brain off and enjoy what limited time I could before the real world tried to infringe upon the sanctuary of sanity that was my self again.  
  
“Oh my, Hachiman!” Of course, because my name is the rarely used Hachiman, this meant that I couldn’t even think such things without fate cursing me with a fourth bad encounter. Fourth verse, same as the first! “To think we would run into each other again so soon! Is it fate, or are you just stalking me?”  
  
The owner of the sultry voice whispering in my ear was, of course, Himejima, standing well within my personal boundaries with an impish smirk. Turning my head, I noticed she was looking as buxom and beautiful as always, though she had replaced the priestess cosplay with more normal blue jeans and a pale cream blouse.  
  
“Funny. But I’m not one of your Johns.”  
  
I stepped away from hell in a humanoid form, and continued on my way. Five more minutes, past a couple of izakaya, and freedom from the constraints of human decency would be mine.  
  
“Well, that’s no fun,” her voice chimed in my ears as she pursued me through narrow streets teeming with unopened bars—a testament to the lifestyle of modern Japan. “No blushing? No pithy remarks? Are you perhaps some wicked youkai that has snatched my dear Hachiman up?”  
  
Youkai exist too. I’m so surprised.  
  
Not.  
  
After vampires and magicians, I was ready to accept anything mentioned in fairy tales was real. Call me when you find a funyarinpa, and I’ll try to at least act shocked.  
  
“You’ve got me,” I drawled. A right at the next corner, and then paradise would be right before my eyes. “I’m actually a kappa. Be careful not to get in front of me, or I’ll steal your shirikodama.”  
  
For reasons unknown, for the second time this week I was treated to the sight of Himejima red faced and bent over, gasping for air.  
  
Because she was laughing at me too damn hard.  
  
It wasn’t that funny, weirdo.  
  
Because I’m too nice for my own good, I waited for her to collect herself instead of leaving her in a defenseless state on her own in a barely populated side street. It had nothing to do with the heaving of her chest, I swear.  
  
You’re an idiot Hachiman, you should have taken the opportunity to just get out of there.  
  
When the heaving stopped, I turned away and continued on my way. I had just rounded the corner when Himejima, still stalking me, spoke up again.  
  
“Hachiman,” her voice was serious, but I seriously couldn’t have cared less. “I truly do enjoy our interactions, and I thank whatever reason you have for being here in Chiba for allowing our paths to cross once more. It allows me to correct my error from this morning.”  
  
“Oh?” She had my interest, barely, as I stopped outside the door of the internet cafe. “What’s this? Are you going to apologise for being a salacious slut? Or maybe for you and your fuck-buddies stalking me this week. Personally I’d prefer both, and a promise that you and yours will fuck off out of my life.”  
  
A complicated look I couldn’t recognise crossed her face, before settling into a frown. Hey, hey, what’s wrong with you Himejima? You’re letting that perfect mask of yours slip for way too long!  
  
“None of the three, I’m afraid.” Ah well, curiosity sated. Viva la all you can drink! Himejima settled a hand on my shoulder, stopping me from crossing the threshold. “Hachiman, please! I would like you to put aside whatever petty antagonism you hold for me and instead _listen_. You need to go home, I’m here hun—”  
  
Whatever she was here for was lost beneath the sound of hand slapping hand. Even if hitting the hand she had on my shoulder felt more like colliding with a car.  
  
Either way, she withdrew her hand, and I withdrew into the bright lights and welcoming smile of Takarajima 24’s reception.  
  


* * *

  
Six hours later, I departed from heaven feeling rejuvenated and light on my feet. The latter was probably because I’d spent every last yen I had in my wallet inside.  
  
Well, except the 20 one yen coins it was seemingly impossible to ever get rid of.  
  
The former, however, was thanks to an exorbitantly long period spent basking in the rose tinted glasses of reminiscent nostalgia—or so I would say if I’d ever actually played Okami as a kid. Instead, trying my hand at the new remaster had left me hopelessly bored after the first hour.  
  
So I’d decided to do some snooping on the ‘people’ Sensei all but begged me to trust. As I had expected though, the results I could gleam from the mighty Google-sama were negligible. Oh sure, they all had the expected SNS accounts any normal teenager would have—LIES, Instacrap, Foolbook, Twitter—but they were hollow. Shells of humanity used to present nothing short of an abject lie.  
  
Just like every other SNS account in the world.  
  
But even for the shallow pit of humanity that was social media, there was something weird about their accounts. They had no connections with family, for one. Hell, in searching for any other Gremory all I’d been able to find was a bunch of otaku (both Japanese and from the West) who thought they were cool and edgy.  
  
If you’re 35 and still acting like a chuuni with your online presence, I’m sorry to say but there’s nothing cool about you. You’re more pathetic than I ever could be.  
  
There were other things too: like the fact that their Twitter accounts were mostly used for simply retweeting other people. Gremory and co were social butterflies (or so I’d heard). Always ready to charm and control the conversation with their quick wit and above average intelligence (or so I’d heard). They were all also way too damn pretty, and had all received their own variety of scouting offers (or so I’d heard).  
  
So why were there no life updates, no jokes or opinions on the latest drama, no pictures from their latest beach trip?!  
  
The way they used Twitter was more fitting for a socially awkward loser. Stop stealing my style and use your own!  
  
And post pictures of your beach trip! They’re not even on your Instagarbage!  
  
The only things that were there were pictures of food and drinks. And even then, only from well known chains or local cafes. Nothing from any trips, be it Tokyo, the zoo, or even days out in Chiba, shopping.  
  
Of course, the weirdest thing of all was that all four of them had created all their accounts on the exact same day (April 4, 2016 for the record), at almost the exact same time. As if they had all crawled out from the same rock after Gremory and Himejima’s first day of school and joined the 21st century.  
  
The Earth’s crust is apparently thick enough to stop the knowledge of social media from penetrating through to Hell. Truly, this planet is a wondrous thing. We should all unite to protect it from those who would seek to do it harm.  
  
If the Devils get control of Facebully we’re doomed.  
  
Faced with the emptiness of a Devil’s soul, I’d turned towards another avenue for trying to investigate them. Sensei’s words from earlier, that I wasn’t the first reincarnate within Gremory’s peerage, led me to doing a deep dive through news articles. If one of them had been hurt bad enough to need reincarnating, I thought it might be an incident worth note.  
  
Unfortunately, as far as the news was concerned they didn’t exist. There wasn’t even a single local rag doing a puff piece on the local celebrity Gremory had become since she’d moved here. No surprises there—the Devil princess likely had an all star cast of lawyers at her beck and call to protect her image.  
  
The closest thing to an incident I’d been able to find was the tragic temple fire in Kyoto earlier this year. A bolt of lightning had struck a generator in the middle of the night during a freak storm this passed autumn. The thing had exploded and taken out most of the elderly and middle aged members of the Himejima clan that lived there.  
  
But that was old news. Himejima had already been here in Kuoh for a year and a half by that point. She hadn’t missed a single day of class to attend any of the funeral and remembrance ceremonies held for that temple either. A shared name and a part time job was the only commonality there.  
  
So, with the disappointing fact that I couldn’t just cyber stalk them into any of their secrets, I’d gone back to trying to have fun as a furry Amaterasu-Ōmikami. I’d even succeeded, and would absolutely be coming back soon to continue playing.  
  
...if everything supernatural is real, that would mean Amaterasu was real too.  
  
I wonder how she felt about being internationally known as a big dog.  
  
Lost in my ruminations, I didn’t pay attention to the people stumbling out of one of the numerous bars in the cramped streets until I’d physically barged into them.  
  
“Watch where you’re fucking going, you little fucking shit! You trying to fuck my night up, huh?! Maybe I should fuck you up!” The man I’d bumped into seemed every bit the wannabe yakuza you see in manga. Shitty bleached hair in a failed pompadour, a button up shirt in an eye watering whirlwind of orange, purple and blue, and “gold” chains around his neck that you could where the paint had rubbed off, revealing the ordinary metal underneath.  
  
His partner for the evening was a woman who embodied the word ‘white’. Not just her race, but her dress, clinging tightly to bountiful curves (where fabric even existed), strappy sandals slipped on smooth soles, her handbag, even the streaks in her waist length hair were all a virginal white. Which was ridiculous because that dress should be showing lingerie and I couldn’t see a scrap of it on her body.  
  
“Ah. I’m very sorry.” I muttered with a bow, hoping to escape before some asshole would-be thug, drunk before 9pm, could yell at me even more.  
  
“You little fuck! What kind of bullshit apology is that, huh?!” Keeping with the pattern of today however, my hopes were squandered. “You think you’re hot shit, is that it, huh?! Wandering around here when the adults are out to play… did your balls just drop or something?”  
  
Dear God, please shut this idiot up and let me go in peace. I swear, I never believed in you, but if you do you’ll have made a faithful believer out of me!  
  
“Baby~” the woman whined at her thug partner, placing a hand against his chest. Huh, so there was something coloured on her—her nails were long, curled and sharp, and painted a black so deep you could mistake them for Himejima’s heart. Instead they were just claws on a harpy. “Just let the loser go home and jack off. He was probably just trying to sneak a squeeze of this~”  
  
I tried my best to not roll my eyes when she slapped her own ass and squealed. Come on, God, please? I know I’m meant to be a Devil now, but it’s not like I want to be! Aren’t you meant to be all about that redemption and salvation crap?!  
  
“Nah, nah, Yuzu. He don’t need that— just look at his shitty little eyes.” The asshole slapped a sweat-soaked hand down on my shoulder and shook me, forcing me to look up at him properly. God, I was just noticing it but he absolutely reeked. Like a certain sock that might have been misplaced under your bed for a month after multiple uses. I’d ask how any self respecting woman could stomach being with him, but it was pretty clear this ‘Yuzu’ didn’t have any. “Ahh, I know that look in your eyes, you stalked some slut from school here and blackmailed her into sucking you off, right?! Ahaaha, that’s it isn’t it?! Yeah, I done the same fucking thing when I was your age! Man, the look of her pathetic crying face begging me not to tell anyone… fuck, I might need to skip the bar and take you back to the hotel, slut!”  
  
He seemed to forget about me as he turned to make a public mess out himself and his partner in the middle of the street. I would have left them to it, but the bastard had, if anything, only tightened his grip on my shoulder, keeping me in place.  
  
God, are you really holding the Devil thing against me? I told you, it’s not like I want to be one. Wait, don’t tell me you’re the one behind my shitty, hopeless day, are you? Well, fuck you too!  
  
Seeing that the guy holding me didn’t seem intent on releasing his grip on my shoulder, or ‘Yuzu’s… everything. I tried to speak up. “Y-yeah, it’s just like you said, mister. I was just—”  
  
Anything further I could have said was stopped by the pavement beneath my feet rushing up to meet my face.  
  
No, wait, he had just thrown me down.  
  
“Ahahaha, man you actually did that?! You’re a real piece of fucking scum!” He stomped on my head, and through the dim remnants of consciousness I could still cling to, I felt a throbbing burn in my nose. “Haha, better wake up to life little shit. You gotta be _classy_ , like me. Treat women with resp—”  
  
I couldn’t tell if he cut himself off, or if I just passed out briefly, but either way I didn’t hear anything from him again.  
  
Brearliy, I began to pick myself up off the ground. Rising to my knees I put a hand up to my face, only to pull it away immediately when it just caused a sharp sting to resound through the dull haze of what I believe was a concussion. Blinking, I noticed a pool of red right in front of my eyes, one that I’m sure would match the colour of my hand.  
  
Groaning and grasping for something to assist (not that I found anything), I slowly pulled myself up to my feet in the middle of the street. What little noise I could hear through the ringing and buzzing in my ear was normal. The people walking around simply stepped around me, not even hiding their lack of desire to help as they averted their eyes from my pathetic form.  
  
I couldn’t blame them; I would’ve done the exact same thing in their shoes.  
  
Even so, I needed to get home before Komachi got worried and tried getting our parents involved. The last thing I needed was a lecture on staying out and forcing them to come get me instead of being able to sleep and prepare for their early starts at work the next day.  
  
Thus, I slowly stumbled forward toward the monorail station. From there, it was two stations to Chiba Train station.  
  
I put trembling foot in front of trembling foot as I forced myself to move onward.  
  
From Chiba Station, it was a further four down the Keiyo line to Keimigawahama Station in Mihama Ward.  
  
The evening air was a bit chilly, I noted as my body trembled in a gust of wind. I hunched quaking shoulders together to help fend it off and picked fruitlessly at my shirt, damp from the ground, as it kept sticking to me and making me shiver more.  
  
From Keimigawahama, a short walk would round out the trip, and I’d be able to have a shower, brush my teeth, and get ready to take Komachi out for Hatsumode. I was a bit worn out, so we’d probably just have to make do with the short trip up to Kemigawa Shrine, rather than a more specialised one. Which was fine, because neither of us really had any particular needs that the gods could help us with.  
  
Not like they’d ever particularly cared in the past really. Probably don’t even give a crap about humans. They probably just live life like deviants, partying and fucking and acting like the biggest normies ever.  
  
I hate walking in the wind; it always makes your eyes sting and tears well up.  
  
Oh well, not _too_ much longer now and I’d be free to curl up in bed with Vita-chan and waste away the final 30 hours before classes resumed.  
  
Approaching the monorail station, the buzzing in my ears was just starting to fade when a barely familiar whining rang out from behind me. I couldn’t really make out what she was saying, the world was still too fuzzy, and it sounded as though it was coming from the other end of a very long tunnel. She seemed to be pleading with her partner (named ‘Yujiro,’ maybe?) not to do something, and in general sounding like a whore.  
  
She was in the middle of all but moaning when her voice cut out with a cry of pain.  
  
The asshole’s… Yujiro’s voice was rough and rushed. There was such a sense of excitement in the blood soaked words that spewed forth amidst an effusion of profanity that I felt my stomach turn to lead.  
  
As I slowly pieced the meaning of choice words together in my muddled mind, I realised that he intended to kill me. Not because of anything that I’d done. Not even because he was a serial killer that got off on it.  
  
No, he intended to kill me because Rias fucking Gremory had somehow marked me with her scent like a bitch in heat. I was going to ‘be a warning’ (I think) for her and her flunkies to stay clear of… his(? Maybe it was their) ‘territory.’  
  
I was going to be killed for the second time this week because of something I knew nothing about. I was going to be killed for the second time this week because yet another asshole thought they could play judge, jury and executioner.  
  
I was going to be killed for the second time this week if I didn’t. Fucking. _Move_.  
  
I dived to the side, into the space between a pair of buildings and watched in bemusement as a fireball lanced past where I had been standing a split second before.  
  
I don’t know why I had had that thought. Nor where the sudden surge of power had come from to actually follow it. But considering that I wasn’t currently doing a shitty cosplay of Portgas D. Ace, I thought myself extraordinarily lucky.  
  
You know, until the asshole who just tried to set me on fire turned to stand at the entrance of my little hidey-hole, rubbing a red cheek. Looks like he was going to have to use his hand tonight.  
  
“Ha, so the little fuck has a Sacred Gear does he? Too bad it’s just a shitty little Twice Critical, huh? Bet you’ve been cursing the Big Fuck every day since you found you were cursed with something so pathetic.”  
  
With the burst of energy came an ability to understand him again. That was unfortunate, I really didn’t want to listen to anything this guy could say. Especially if he was about to monologue while he killed me.  
  
Could he be any more of a walking “first enemy” trope?  
  
“Look, asshole, I don’t know what you’re talking about,” I said, trying to contain my panic as I felt awareness of my situation become clearer and clearer. Believe it or not, but I didn’t actually want to die. Especially not in such a shitty situation, at the hands of such a shitty guy, because some shitty Fallen Angel had decided to shit all over my life. Somehow, the anger at such a situation was winning over the desperate desire to cower, cry and beg for my life. “So why don’t you—”  
  
He threw another fireball at me, and this time there was no miracle instinct that made me dodge.  
  
Instead, there was just me screaming and writhing on the floor.  
  
I was burning. The smell of charred flesh ripe in my nose and unforgettable.  
  
Stop, drop and roll worked, but even still I continued to scream. Screamed, screamed, screamed.  
  
My breath ran out and still I screamed.  
  
My voice went hoarse and I began to sob.  
  
Yujiro laughed, and it felt as though everything but the pain ceased to exist.  
  
“Look at you! So fucking pathetic,” he sneered down at my quivering form, arms folded across his chest in a cruel mockery of the way I’d tried fold to my own. “Little boy bitch sprouts a fancy blue gauntlet and thinks he’s good enough to talk shit to his betters.”  
  
“I… I…” I couldn’t say anything. It hurt too much. My chest. My head. Everything hurt so goddamn much.  
  
“Or maybe you just think you’re better ‘cause you’re in a Peerage, is that it? Think you’re all safe and cozy from the real players cause you got some little slut tucking you in and letting you nurse on her boobs?” His foot was on top of my head, pressing it into the ground as I cried. “Little dumbass, think just ‘cause you have a master you’re safe from us? Like we didn’t kill our own master and eat his goddamn heart?!  
  
“You think you can stand against a _real_ Devil, dipshit?!” He lifted his foot, and then punted me. Against all conventional thought, what should have at best jarred (or snapped) my neck instead sent me flying down the alley to impact against the wall. " _Don’t get full of yourself, you noble little fuck_!”  
  
Ha. This dumbass. He thought I was some kind of noble? Given all that shit he was saying earlier too, he probably thought I’d been a devil for longer than a week too. Geez, he had an ambush and still hasn’t even managed to kill a high schooler. I don’t know if he was overconfident or if he just sucked that bad.  
  
Either way, as I lay there numb and defeated, a victim of circumstance and my own damn pride, I felt something flicker to life within me.  
  
If this was my life now, not being able to visit my favourite net cafe ‘cause some jumped up nobody would try and kill me, I’d need to pull my head out of my ass.  
  
Gremory and her bum buddies could all go straight back to hell, but if I was going to be forced into a club with them this semester, then they could at least teach me to survive. Teach me who and where to stay away from, and how to get the fuck out of dodge when my life somehow fucked me over anyway.  
  
But first, first I would do something on my own. I couldn’t do anything to this guy, not even if he tied every limb behind his back, dressed in a gimp outfit and bent over with his asscheeks spread open. Not physically, at least. I was a teenager whose only modicum of fitness was being able to ride a bike for a couple hours. He was a full grown adult with whatever powers being a devil gave him.  
  
But, Himejima and Sensei had both been clear on something. I had magic. Magic powered through the sheer bullshit power of imagination. And as any teenaged loser can tell you, with imagination you can delude yourself into thinking you’re literally a god. Believe in it, and you too can make a world where the sting of insults added to your armour, rather than make you cry.  
  
All I had to do... was believe that justice existed in this world, and everyone should be treated equally.  
  
Next time I’ll just imagine him under the Cruciatus curse, it’d probably be more believable.  
  
As it was, the asshole let out a short, yet intense scream. A bellow pulled deep from his chest as I gifted him a short insight into exactly how I felt.  
  
A bittersweet moment, before he seemed to realise what I was doing and just started laughing again.  
  
Dick.  
  
“Ha, that was clever! I wouldn’t have taken you for an illusionist of all things. You’ve got that broody look that just screams wannabe samurai.” And you’ve got that dumbass look that says you’re a meat shield, not a flamethrower. “Too bad for you that you suck at them.”  
  
“Now then,” he took a step toward my broken body, hand once more alight with flame. “Let’s tell you what happens from here. I’m going to take this here fire, and I’m going to drop it right on your empty little head. Then you’re going to burn, slowly and painfully, as I guide it over every inch of your body. I’m gonna control it so that it burns you away all at the same time, you see? Just a little bit at a time, so that you feel pain everywhere but so that you’re slowly just reduced to the important parts. And then, here’s the most important part so stick with me, I want you to scream.  
  
“Scream as I turn you into just a body and a head. Then as I burn your organs inside your chest. I need you to scream long and loud so that I’m remembering them until I get my hands on that Yuzu slut again, so I can make her scream louder to forget you. I don’t like hurting people you know, but _hot damn_ trying to forget just makes the fucking so good! You understand, right? Ah, who am I kidding, of course you don’t.”  
  
Quite honestly, I would’ve liked to have ignored everything he said. But it was pretty damn impossible to ignore the sheer amount of crazy this guy just espoused. I hope that’s not a common occurrence in my future. I might just end up deafening myself if it is.  
  
It was as Yujiro loomed over me, the heat of the flame in his hand licking at my face, that my savior arrived on midnight wings. “Oh my, such cruel treatment you’ve given my poor little pet. I’ll need to punish you good.”  
  
It was Himejima. Hovering in the air above us, a pleasant smile on her face at complete odds with the cruel malice leaking from her words. Large wings, shaped like a bat’s, flared out against the winter sky and blocked what little moonlight that bore witness to the events in that alley.  
  
Yujiro flinched and spun around, the fire in his hand lancing out towards Himejima. Except that by the time he’d completed his spin she was already padding softly on the ground between us. She smiled down at me, worry and concern written all over her face behind the calm facade as she took in my appearance. It might have been the most beautiful sight I’d seen, if only it wasn’t also the ugliest.  
  
 _A slightly sharper face and they’d be twins_  
  
Yujiro must have noticed that he’d missed, because he spun around again, another lance of fire ready to throw. Unlucky for him that Himejima had somehow blinked into space behind him yet again, though this time she grabbed hold of the hand full of fire.  
  
A loud crack rang out into the night as Yujiro’s wrist shattered with a single small flex of her fingers.  
  
Himejima didn’t give him a chance to recognise the pain as she leaned in against him, wrapping an arm around his throat in a choke. “Such a naughty, naughty boy~! I quite like the sounds of screams too, you see. Seeing someone so proud laid to waste begging you for mercy, it’s just such a rush!”  
  
Yujiro’s attempted whimper was strangled in his throat when Himejima casually pulled her arm tighter.  
  
“No no no, no sounds, not right now. It’s learning time,” she said. Her smile was bigger than any I had ever seen, even in the midst of laughing at me. It was cruel, and malevolent, and I realised then just how true Hiratsuka-sensei’s words were; if she wanted to hurt me, she could have and would have. “See, screams are only fun when your partner consents to that kind of play. When you just force them, it’s no longer mutual fun; just one person’s sick amusement from abuse.  
  
“So, when you can’t find anyone that wants to scream for you, sometimes you’ve just gotta make yourself scream!” With every word that slipped from her lips, I realised how shallow a view of the real Himejima Akeno I’d ever caught a glimpse of. So poisonously malicious were her words I imagined I could almost see it drip off her tongue. “But I can see you’re nervous. Don’t worry, everyone is their first time. So I’ll just have to _**help you**_!”  
  
The world around us lit up. A crack of thunder echoed through my very being and electricity began to course over the two devils in front of me.  
  
And then the screaming began.  
  
Yujiro screamed and writhed seeking an escape from Himejima’s impossible strength.  
  
He was burning. The smell of charred flesh ripe in my nose and unforgettable.  
  
There was no stop drop and roll to counter this though. Electricity burns are much different to those caused by fire. He just continued to scream. Screamed, screamed, screamed.  
  
His breath ran out and still he screamed.  
  
His voice went hoarse and he began to scream louder.  
  
Himejima laughed, high and cruel, a wicked witch in the flesh. Yujiro’s screams were the centre of her world.  
  
And then it came to an end. The electricity stopped. The screaming stopped. Himejima’s laugh stopped.  
  
Her face was deathly calm as Yujiro whimpered in her arms. One around his neck, the other now wrapped beneath his right arm, holding it high.  
  
“Stray Devil Takashi Yujiro, you who lost yourself to Great Sin and partook in the murder of your Master, Daz Haagenti. By the judgement of the Marquis Gremory, you forfeit your life. May you find peace in knowing the rest of your Peerage of traitors shall be swift to follow.”  
  
And, with a snap of her hips, Himejima lifted Takashi Yujiro, arched her back, and brought him crashing down on top of his head. The _crack_ of his neck pierced clean through the ringing in my ears.  
  
A katahajime suplex.  
  
She killed him with a _katahajime suplex_.  
  
Himejima let go of the dead Stray and gracefully rose back to her feet, brushing at the back of her shirt for whatever dirt that might have stuck to it in the split second she was on the ground.  
  
She hurried over my way and began fretting over me, but with Yujiro dead the adrenaline I hadn’t even noticed was starting to fade. Before I passed out though, there was one pressing question I needed to ask:  
  
“What the hell is a Twice Critical?”

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> For reference, this is a Katahajime Suplex: https://i.makeagif.com/media/1-28-2018/tid4HJ.gif
> 
> So yeah, I promised this to be out about 7 months ago, but depression is a bitch. And for those who aren’t aware: trying to write an even more depressed asshole when you’re already in a funk is bad for you people. Please don’t do it.
> 
> Good news is I graduated (and started studying a different thing, yay). I got a job (I knock off and my brain is dead for the day). And now I got this done (planned for the anniversary, but my edit monkeys suck and have lives).
> 
> ...holy fuck 4 chapters in 13 months I’d hoped to have so much more done by now.
> 
> Anyway, my life is busy and I only get a chance to write every now and then. What that means, for the sake of this fic, is that I’m going to take the time to completely plot out the next 20 or so chapters as I begin to settle into it properly and get a good balance going while I work on chapter 5 a bit at a time.
> 
> I’m not going to promise a time frame, because evidently I suck at that, but I will try and have the next chapter out in a shorter time frame than this one. And when it comes out, the rest shouldn’t be too long to follow.


End file.
